


Coup de Foudre

by eaivalefay



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Romance, cockbertbigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 81,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaivalefay/pseuds/eaivalefay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry just wanted to get away from trouble. That was why he left England to bum around America. He picks up odd jobs here and there, which is how he landed on the American Idols Live Tour 2009. The only problem is that he sees trouble in the form of Adam Lambert every day. The smile, the flirting, the endless persistence in pursuing him. And Harry’s running out of reasons to say no, to both Adam and himself. Sometimes Harry really thinks that maybe, just maybe, he should have stayed in England.</p><p>Adam’s never been happier. He’s exactly where he wants to be, doing the things he loves most of all. Life is exciting! Life is good! Then Harry shows up on tour, and life gets better. There is nothing like having a sexy, opinionated, intriguing roadie bringing him coffee every day. Now all he has to do is work out how to convince Harry dating is the best idea he’s ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: Written for the cockbertbigbang on LJ. I have to say really epically huge thanks and love go to two people. pensnest, who is an absolutely brilliant and inspiring artist. Go check out her stunning work! I love it so much! And furorscribiendi, who has been supporting me and eyeballing me and editing through the entire writing process. ♥ Thank you so much, guys, and thanks to everyone who reads and enjoys the story! This is…a behemoth. lol I never saw it coming. In fact, it was bigger enough than I expected that it is not properly beta’ed right now, for which I apologize. It will be beta’ed asap, but in the meantime, here it is and I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> To see the beautiful art of Pensnest and to check out the fanmix, go here: [Master Post (on DreamWidth)](http://eaivalefay.dreamwidth.org/172975.html)! :)

  
It was becoming increasingly apparent to Harry that he and trouble were inextricably linked. His whole life he’d been dogged by it in some form or another.

…but he thought it had been England. England and magic. So he moved. It was the practical option and after talking it over with his friends he knew they understood. He had to get away from the mess he called a life.

He’d ended up in America, with his same face but a new name, no magic, and a great deal less fame. He was known by the wizards in America, but they were more dispersed. Small communities across the breadth of the continent and thoroughly mixed in with their muggle counterparts. They weren’t concentrated in one intense section of a small island. Harry suspected all that concentrated magic made his country a little mad.

Really, Americans didn’t give much of a crap about what he’d done in the UK. It was old and distant news. When a wizard did spot him there was no screaming and no gushing. There was occasionally a nod or a raised, inquisitive eyebrow. Two kids had asked for his autograph, back in Memphis in a little apothecary he frequented. Mostly there was nothing. No one usually recognized him.

At the core, what it all meant was that no one ratted him out to the British wizarding world. No one cared enough to bother. He got his dream: a new name, a new life. He had his second chance away from the politics and constant attention. It was a brilliant new beginning to be himself. If he could figure out who he even was, because sometimes he felt like he didn’t have a clue.

Yet somehow, despite everything he’d done to escape… He was without the media. Without the politicians and bureaucrats. Without England or magic. And here he was, with trouble.

It started where most things start. Money. When you’ve given up magic and have no useful muggle skills beyond primary school, it was kind of hard to get clothes, or apartments, or food. So he’d cheated just a little and apparated to America – his last act of magic – and promptly took to drifting across the country.

He hitched rides and did odd jobs every place from small, pea-sized towns to big, sprawling cities until he’d hit on some big-event concert.

He’d fucking lucked out.

He was front row and center for the rant of the year, where some woman capped off her complaint by quitting her job. It was astonishing who they would hire and how when they were desperate. Because they looked around, took a quick glance at Harry, asked if he could drive a truck, and threw him in the front seat of a semi. It was one skill he’d picked up between Little Rock and Las Vegas only a year before, and thank Merlin, because these people were offering good money to get him behind the wheel.

Oh, they got a proper driver at their next official stop, but the money had been brilliantly good. So Harry did the only sensible thing he could think of, he fished around for more odd jobs. If they kept paying that well he would have a tidy sum stored up and a few months with steady, interesting work.

That was how he came to be some odds-and-ends roadie for the American Idol Tour of 2009. And that’s how he came to be in the best trouble of his life.

\----------

It wasn’t his fault they had some insanely magnetic guy singing every night and interacting with the crew every day. Of course, half the staff didn’t see the artists half the time, but everyone had made friends throughout the show and everyone tended to end up working somehow with everyone else, at least at some point or another.

Harry was in a unique position of being the go-to guy for the most random crap, even though half the time he hadn’t a clue what he was doing. He did things from driving trucks to hauling sets to working with the make-up artists. He shifted around costumes, made sure they were cleaned, bought coffee and ensured various important people were eating every other day. Most often he was a gopher. He brought cable cords and candy bars to rooms in the dead of night when no one else could be bothered. He had a reputation as doing pretty much anything, which was fine with him, because he liked almost everyone and got paid overtime.

He drew the line at computers. The last time he’d dueled it out with a computer, the bastard piece of technology had won. Then promptly burst into flame. So maybe it lost in the end, but he’d bloody lost too, about four hundred dollars in damage. Every time anyone asked him to fix or even look at a computer, he reminded them he didn’t do that. If they asked again, he pretty much told them where to shove their tech problems. Now that after the first few fires and inexplicable crashes, everyone usually remembered not to call him for that.

The best part was Jack. Jack-the-security-guard. He was one of the tour’s numerous bodyguards, though everyone acknowledged he was mostly Adam Lambert’s bodyguard. Adam seemed to have the most trouble with overzealous fans. Jack had been Harry’s first connection, the bloke who’d invited him to play poker – cash players only – the first night he’d arrived. Harry lost twenty bucks on that game, and made five friends, Jack being the friendliest.

Harry was hard pressed to pin down a reason why, but Jack liked Harry and often pulled him in on random jobs just to chat. Jack, of course, was around Adam Lambert all day. The insanely magnetic guy. The insanely magnetic guy who was thoughtful enough to remember Harry ordering a chai tea latte once and ensuring one was ordered every time they stepped into a coffee shop or anyone even brought up running out for caffeine.

Harry had a hell of a time keeping his eyes off the man. He’d mentioned Lambert’s magnetism, hadn’t he? It was like a bloody siren’s call in his head, every time the man sang or even spoke. It was to the point that Harry juggled his schedule to be free the half hour Adam sang every night.

He was definitely obsessed. That was the trouble.

He didn’t bloody want to be obsessed. He didn’t need this. Romance was for the romantic, not for him. He was cynical, solo and happy that way. But hell, if he could catch that man’s attention…

And that was the other side of the coin. Adam was thoughtful, yes, but that didn’t mean he noticed Harry at all beyond his friendship with Jack. Which is how it was supposed to be. Harry definitely preferred it that way. Not being noticed was by far better than being under the laser gaze of a man that was far too intense. The way he looked at his ex, Drake, Harry was pretty sure that expression could make a diamond crack.

Harry hummed along softly as he watched Adam finish _Starlight_ onstage.

“You’ve got it bad,” a voice said far too close to his ear. Harry jumped, chills running up his spine and neck hairs standing on end. Jack was standing two feet behind him, trying not to smirk.

“Don’t sneak up on me. Shit.” Harry rubbed roughly at the back of his neck. He hated that feeling, the sudden spike of alarm. He was too used to an enemy wand being on the other end, even after all these years.

“I didn’t.” Jack let out a chuckle, crossing thick arms, dark eyebrow arching up over amused brown eyes. “You’re focusing so hard on that stage nothing short of the lights falling from the ceiling gets your attention.”

“Or arses sidling up to me,” Harry said.

“I still say I didn’t, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got witnesses,” Jack said, leaning against the wall. “Got a crush?”

“No,” Harry said it a little too forcefully, and he knew it too. “Not a crush, exactly. It’ll pass. Bloody hell, I don’t even know _why_.”

Jack shrugged. “From a neutral standpoint? He’s attractive, if you go in for that type, likable, funny, has a voice that can shatter glass, is rocketing toward fame—”

“Fame is _not_ a factor, and I resent that you think so little of me,” Harry interrupted. “I won’t deny the other parts.”

Jack grinned. “I don’t think you’re a fortune seeker, Harry. My instincts go against that idea. But it’s my job to suspect people, and protect the kids.”

“They’re not kids,” Harry said. It was an automatic response, really. “Except for Allison,” He added on belatedly. He had a hard time calling anyone older than eighteen a kid. Even Allison was close enough that Harry didn’t think of her as a child. He hadn’t been at that age, and most of his friends hadn’t been either. Not really.

“They are by my standards. Anyone under thirty,” Jack said.

“Oh good, I just make it past the line then,” Harry snarked.

“So you’re thirty?” Jack asked. His eyes glinted with triumph.

“What, you didn’t check out my credentials the moment I was officially hired?” Harry returned.

“Before, when you were _un_ officially hired. After all, you were conveniently in the right place at the right time. But there wasn’t much on you. No birth certificate, for one,” Jack said calmly.

Harry shrugged. “Most of my stuff is buried.” Which was all he would say on that. What could he say? Sorry, all my official documents are filed with the wizarding branch of the British government. You could go ask them for it, if you can find them, only they will probably cast a memory charm on you and you won’t remember any of this at all. From Harry’s experience, that would not go well, no matter what view Jack took on it.

Jack nodded slowly. “I have my suspicions, Harry.” At Harry’s questioning look he added, “If you won’t share, I won’t either. Doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, just have a few ideas. But Adam…”

“Doesn’t matter.” Harry shook his head. “Okay, so you caught me out on my, to be quite honest, annoying as hell crush, or whatever you want to call it, but nothing’s ever going to happen. I don’t want anything to. I’m here for work.”

Jack shook his head in turn. “Just because you don’t want anything to…”

“Oh hell, Jack,” Harry said, annoyed. “I can control myself!”

“Can you? Even if someone’s looking back at you?” Jack asked.

Harry frowned in complete confusion. “It’d be nice if you would make sense.” When Jack’s eyebrow arched up and he didn’t answer, Harry sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Never mind, Deanna beeped me fifteen minutes ago, I should probably go see what she wants.”

“Deanna beeped you a quarter of an hour ago and you’re still here?” Jack asked. “She’ll flay you alive.”

He offered Jack a crooked smile. “Yeah, I know. Every other day it’s some new diva request. From a manager! But look, about this thing… nothing’s going on, alright? You don’t need to protect your lamb from me. Poker’s still on tomorrow, right? If Chelsea’s found a replacement for Lou?”

“Yeah, yeah. Poker’s on. I need the extra cash from you god-awful players.” Jack pushed him toward the exit. “Deanna’s going to give you shit.”

Harry could feel Jack’s eyes on him as he left, and if Harry could read his mind, he’d know Jack wasn’t worried about Harry seducing his little “lamb,” because Adam wasn’t a lamb by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, Harry was the one who would need a little protecting.

\----------

“Nope, you’re coming with us.” Jack tossed him a bag. “The busses rolled into the hotel, everyone is getting checked in and we’re meeting up and take a van out into the city.”

“Why am I coming on an interview haul?” Harry asked, slinging the gym bag over his shoulder. From the weight he had no doubt it was filled with water bottles and candy bars.

“There’s no interview run today,” Jack said.

An arm slung across Harry’s shoulder. He barely kept from jumping, even though he’d heard the approaching horde of footsteps. “Yep, an afternoon off,” Adam’s voice sounded cheerfully a couple inches above Harry’s head. “You get to come along with us stars and see the sights.”

“Ye-ah,” Kris said. “The good ol’ sights of Washington, DC.”

“Stars?” Lil said simultaneously, rolling her eyes. “Right.” Adam laughed at her.

“Hey,” Danny said, “This is a great place. The seat of the government, the historic sites, c’mon!”

“The world’s largest museum, the Smithsonian. They have everything. A couple museums for Asian art, aviation, Native art, American art, stamps. The zoo,” Harry said absently as Kris playfully charged Danny. He tried to stealthily slip Adam’s arm off his shoulder to no effect whatsoever. Adam simply shifted, tightening his grip a bit and twining his fingers into Harry’s jacket.

Harry could feel Jack’s eyes boring holes into his back from behind as everyone made their way to the vans.

“Danny, you coming with?” Allison asked from Harry’s other side, sliding sunglasses on as they hit the doors. Thankfully the parking lot was private and blocked off, so no fans awaited their idols’ arrival.

“Nope, I’m booked.” Danny shook his head. “Still can’t believe it. Meeting some producers today, one time opportunity.”

“You’ve been to Washington before?” Adam asked Harry quietly, half breathing the question into his ear, not wanting to interrupt the others.

A shiver shot down Harry’s spine like lightning. “Um,” he said articulately.

Adam grinned down at him. “You mentioned museums.”

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sudden cobwebs from his brain. “Er,” he said. “Right. I rode through here about a year and a half ago, hitchhiking with a nice couple coming back from Niagara Falls. It was their tenth anniversary, reliving the honeymoon, that sort of thing.”

“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Allison asked, making a face. “My parents would kill me if I hitchhiked across America.”

Harry laughed. “Probably because you’re seventeen.”

“They’d kill me at any age for that,” Allison said. “With a speech about dangerous behaviors.”

Kris grinned. “Harry’s like Jack here, nothing’s dangerous to these men of war.”

“Men of war?” Harry asked in a tone of disbelief. “Seriously? Jack, _possibly_.”

“Don’t go hurting my reputation, Harry,” Jack said, stepping forward and pulling the van door open.

Harry shot a smile at Jack as he finally escaped Adam’s grasp. “You all watch too many horror films. Hitchhiking, from my experience, is not all that dangerous. A couple creeps have tried to pick me up, but I say no and they move on. Not once has a driver attempted to haul me off into a forest or industrial complex on some mad serial murdering binge.”

“But hitchhiking is wrong, kids,” Jack added. He dropped the bag he was carrying in the back with a dull _thump_. “For a variety of sensible reasons.”

“…right,” Harry said, a note of apology creeping into his voice. “It’s frequently stupid and you should always choose the safest form of available travel.”

Jack cleared his throat pointedly. Matt changed the subject before Jack started in on one of his many prepared lectures. “I’m for some bars, not museums.”

“Food,” Allison said with a tone of finality. “And Lil and I have already planned out our day. You’re free to tag along.”

Lil nodded, “Brunch then shopping. Angie got someone to put highlights together. Maybe a show before dinner and then crashing.”

“Because our workdays aren’t stressful enough?” Harry asked. They all hovered around the two parked vans. “Do any of you ever sleep?”

“Sleep is for days we don’t have off.” Adam and Kris said together, before catching each other’s gaze and bursting out laughing.

“You two spend too much time together,” Lil said.

“Seconded,” Allison said as Harry muttered the same. She elbowed him in the side. “Let’s not start, eh?”

“Where we eating?” Matt asked. “Since you have it planned out.”

“Oh, that’s open. There’s a few places Angie listed…” Allison dug around in her bag. “A Chinese joint—”

“Not Chinese.” Kris made a face. “Three nights in a row is enough for me.”

“No pizza either,” Lil put in quickly.

“There’s The Burger Joint, name making the menu obvious,” Allison suggested.

“How about something that caters to everything?” Adam asked. He glanced at Harry curiously before looking around at everyone else.

“There’s a place, The Prime Rib, they do great ribs and have a pretty good general menu. A bit on the pricy side,” Harry said. He almost frowned outright at Adam, because that look had been weird. Why was he acting so oddly?

Allison said with a grin, “That’s on Angie’s list. They don’t believe in subtle names, do they, these DCers?”

“Ribs sound amazing.” Kris actually groaned. “Barbeque!”

Adam smirked, “Guess we’re going out for ribs.”

\----------

How was Harry supposed to know ribs would be a big mistake? He wasn’t bloody psychic, no matter what some wizarding tabloids might claim.

Only six of them ended up going out to eat, the others deciding to stay in or already having other plans. Only Adam, Allison, Lil and Kris ended up going out, and Harry wasn’t sure why he was coming along when Jack could easily look after four of them. Only Adam had his arm around him, urging him into the van, and he couldn’t catch a lapse in the chatter to point it out.

The Prime Rib had a nice atmosphere, with dim lights and music that didn’t make ears bleed. They piled comfortably into a booth, ordered drinks and decided to split oysters on the half shell and a shrimp cocktail, which had been all Adam’s idea. The food was amazing, the shrimp, and even the oysters were better than Harry ever thought they could be. The problem came with sitting across from Adam, because with Adam there always came a show.

Harry sat trapped between Allison and Kris, watching Adam suck oyster after oyster out of a half shell. And he had no idea how everyone else was managing to avoid the fact that Adam sucking on oysters, tipping his head back as he swallowed them, throat working, and then licking his lips. And making _that sort of noise_ was completely and utterly filthy. Harry’s eyes dragged down to watch as Adam swallowed his fifth oyster, adam’s apple bobbing and humming appreciatively. He looked back up just in time to catch Adam’s eye.

Adam held his gaze and licked his lips slowly.

Who the hell ordered oysters for appetizers anyway? Oysters with _ribs_ coming along any moment? Harry swallowed hard.

He shifted his gaze to Jack, who sat at the edge of the booth next to Adam. Jack was staring at him, an eyebrow arched slightly. _This is not my fault_ , Harry thought hard in Jack’s direction. It wasn’t!

Kris laughed at something Lil said. “They do say oysters are aphrodisiacs.”

Adam snickered, “Better not let Katy know about this then. She might get concerned about what we’re up to.”

Kris’ eyes widened impossibly and he flushed. Harry felt vindictive pleasure at the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one affected by Adam. It wasn’t him. Adam had this effect on practically everyone. Kris was proof of that. For Merlin’s sake, Kris was straight and Adam still got to him. Not to mention Adam’s ardent fans. Adam’s fans were women and he got to _them_ too. Harry clung to that thought.

Then the ribs arrived.

Ribs were messy. They got delicious barbeque sauce over everything and you couldn’t eat them without bare fingers and twenty napkins. How Adam made _that_ sexy as fuck, Harry had no idea.

Only Adam kept _watching_ him, and when he polished off a rib he would lick his lips and suck off a finger or two. Harry stared helplessly as Adam’s tongue darted out to catch a line of sauce on his lower lip.

Adam smiled at him. “You’re a mess, sweetheart,” he informed Harry before promptly reaching across the table. His thumb swiped across Harry’s cheek, wiping off a smudge of sauce. Harry’s mouth fell open as Adam licked off his finger. “This place is fucking hot. It’s like ribs back home.”

Harry snapped his mouth shut and set his jaw tightly to keep from saying something he really didn’t want to let out in front of everyone. He glanced at Jack again with a _what the fuck was that_ look. Harry refused to eat another rib, and stared religiously in any direction but Adam’s. Lil’s earlobe became a point of fascination, and then the potted tree wedged behind Jack. The plan worked brilliantly until they paid the check and left.

As soon as they hit the pavement Adam worked his way beside Harry and slid an arm around his shoulders once more. Harry tried to recall how far away they’d parked the van.

“Oh, look, a Ben and Jerry’s!” Allison bounced next to them. “Let’s go in. Ice cream would top the ribs off perfectly.”

Harry nearly whimpered.

\----------

Harry wouldn’t have guessed lunch to be the most relaxed part of their little trip out.

The stop at the ice cream shop felt like an eternity. Harry sat trapped once more, only this time beside Adam, who had naturally ordered a banana split. Harry steadfastly refused to order anything, his sense for danger shooting off the charts. He just knew if he ordered something there would be a repeat of the lip-swiping and finger-licking. After their order arrived Adam declared his split was way too large and insisted on sharing with Harry.

Harry was sure some cosmic joke was going on. Some cruel deity, God or Merlin or whoever the fuck was up there, was sitting up on a cloud, laughing their arse off as Harry was repeatedly tortured by what had to be the most oblivious man on the planet.

As Adam lifted a spoonful of banana split toward Harry’s mouth, he suddenly desperately wished he had ordered something. Anything, even a lemonade. How the hell do you say no to an unstoppable spoon filled with banana and chocolate syrup heading toward your mouth? Harry didn’t have the faintest so he opened his mouth, accepting the spoon as Adam grinned over at him. He reached up and grabbed the handle, along with half of Adam’s hand. But hell, he would die before letting go of the spoon again, even as Adam tried to pull it back. Harry tightened his grip.

He won that battle, Adam released the spoon, turning back to the sundae and glancing around for a second utensil. Harry licked his lips slowly and tried to calm down. He was fairly sure his heart rate was three times higher than any decent survival rate. He felt ready to go to battle or run for his life. Adam turned back toward him, pushing the dish between the two of them.

He smiled lazily at Harry, “You’ve got chocolate—”

Harry never whipped his hand up to his mouth so fast in his life. Not even when Snape’s threats to poison him turned physical. Not even when his stomach revolted after his first “official” battle and he was trapped in a tent, being congratulated by more battle-hardened wizards than he could count.

Adam’s grin broadened and he lifted the napkin in his hand. “This might help.”

Kris made a noise and when Harry glanced past Adam, Kris started coughing on his sundae. Allison ducked her head quickly into her shake while Lil took to staring toward the counter. Jack procured another spoon, handing it to Adam.

“So, kids, what are the plans after this?” Jack asked pointedly.

“I’m set on the museum,” Adam said idly, considering Harry for another moment before glancing toward Jack. Harry wiped his mouth and tried to regulate his breathing as he tuned into the conversation. Adam was having that effect on him far too often, the one that made him react instead of think.

“Which?” Lil asked.

“Is there more than one?” Kris made a face. “We won’t do all of them, will we?”

Kris and Adam simultaneously glanced at Harry. “The Smithsonian is made of several museums, American art, ah—”

“You mentioned an aviation museum earlier,” Lil said. “I’m all for that.”

Kris nodded enthusiastically. “Planes? Yeah, that would be cool. Think they got cars around somewhere?”

“I was thinking art museum,” Adam demurred.

“But planes…” Kris started.

“Are so much cooler,” Allison finished. “Agreed. Why not split up?” Allison finished before Kris got the chance. “And I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m going shopping before I even look at a museum.”

“Splitting up it is.” Lil winked at Allison before turning to Adam, “Sorry, honey, art is nice, but I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah. I wants me some shoes. Two groups?” Jack made of noise of dissent, but Allison kept talking. “Jack can come with me and Lil, and Kris, you can come with us. We’ll check out the museum after the shoes, and Harry can show Adam the _art_ since he’s been there before.”

Harry blinked repeatedly. When was Allison in on the universe’s plan to frustrate Harry? And when had Adam’s arm snuck around his shoulders _again_? “I haven’t been there in ages.”

“And I don’t want to shop,” Kris said.

“Kris, didn’t Katy threaten you with physical violence if you didn’t have shoes by the time she flew out again?” Adam said helpfully.

Kris stared at Adam in alarm. “I don’t really need new shoes. She won’t be that upset—”

“Or Jack can go with Kris straight to the museum,” Allison said, rolling her eyes.

Adam took another bite of syrup smothered banana. “Didn’t you swear to her?”

Kris smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “Crap. I guess I’m coming shopping.”

“Great! So the four of us will go shopping—”

“Or Jack can make his own decisions about what to do,” Jack added.

“Jack, three idols win out over one,” Adam pointed out logically. “Besides, I have the fearless Harrison Grey here with me. He’s taken on arena managers. He’s taken on semi-drivers. He’s taken on _cosmeticians_. If he can’t keep me safe, who can?” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder.

Jack’s eyes dropped to the hand, then back up to its owner’s face. Harry could see his thought processes strolling across his face. He couldn’t blame him, in his shoes, Harry would worry too. But it wasn’t as though Harry was trying to get Adam alone, and he’d told Jack it would be fine. Not that he would refuse a little back-up right now, but he could handle his infatuation just fine, thank-you. “Adam, the fans go crazy for you in a way they simply don’t for the others—”

“No offense taken,” Allison said drily. Jack glanced at her with an amused smile.

Adam shook his head, “That one chick charged Kris the other day, and I swear, Allison’s fans have been getting creepier with each passing city. Did you see the one guy with the death shirt?”

“That shirt was bloody creepy,” Harry said without really thinking about what he was saying. It had been. The man in the shirt had three scars that were visible, one along his cheek and the other two along his right arm. Harry could tell they were made three separate occasions by three separate instruments. He had no doubt he had more scars they couldn’t see. ‘Blood’ had been tattooed across one hand, though he couldn’t say about the other, since it was gloved in leather. The shirt was plain out of this world, soft pink with an epic on the merits of death. He exchanged a look with Jack.

Harry had pegged the guy as trouble the moment they’d rolled into the arena the morning of the concert. It wasn’t the clothes entirely. He was used to bizarre muggle apparel. British wizards just didn’t know how to dress for muggle excursions. It was the way the man just stood outside the barrier gate, hanging around. Harry had gone to Jack to point him out. Jack had thankfully already noticed. Unfortunately, it brought up an uncomfortable conversation about Harry’s previous experience with creeps.

The Idols glanced curiously between Jack and Harry.

Adam pushed onward anyway. “It’s only a museum, Jack. Unless a mummy comes alive to eat our brains I think we’ll be safe.”

Jack sighed. “Point taken.” He glanced at Harry, then at the arm around Harry’s shoulder. Harry wished he wouldn’t, because he was fairly positive it brought everyone else’s attention to it too. Harry would rather this…whatever it was remain solely in his head and not available for everyone’s comedy routines.

Merlin, he was getting paranoid.

“Alright, we’ll split up, but you’re both to be back at the hotel by,” he checked his watch, “six. Any later and everything goes code red. No excuses, boys.”

“Four hours, Jack—” Adam started.

“Four and a half, Adam. Period,” Jack said.

Adam pouted.

Harry couldn’t stop the grin. Adam essentially got the trip he wanted and he still pouted at being curfewed.

“Nonetheless, your illuminating presence is required, back at the hotel. By six. We all work tomorrow,” Jack said flatly.

“I used to party until dawn,” Adam said, taking a bite of ice cream. “And still make it to work early, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

“You can party as long as you want so long as I’m there to keep your excitable fans at bay,” Jack said blithely.

“Excitable fans are the only way to go on the dance floor,” Adam said.

It was at these points, when Adam flirted with imaginary people who weren’t even in the room, that Harry remembered Adam flirted with _everybody_. Arms around shoulders didn’t count for much, and he really had to get over this. No wonder Jack was so concerned. Harry knew Adam didn’t mean anything by it and he was still a basket case reading too much into everything.

Adam wanted to see a museum or two. It wasn’t a cosmic joke to drive Harry nuts.

\----------

The group went their separate ways not long after that. Harry was finally starting to calm down, despite Adam’s bizarre little behaviors. He expected the arm to pop around his shoulder any second as they got out on the pavement. He didn’t even mind the idea, which either meant he was getting used to Adam’s affectionate nature or he was finally returning to sanity.

What he wasn’t expecting, and what made him jump three inches off the ground, was the arm that slid comfortably around his waist.

“You okay?” Adam asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“Er, no. I mean, yes!” Harry felt the flush slowly creeping up his neck. “It’s nothing.”

“It must be something.” Adam steered them toward the street, hailing down the cab he’d called fifteen minutes earlier. “You were taller than me for a second.”

“Oh.” Noticed that, had he? Harry knew the blush had moved fully across his face. “I just wasn’t expecting… Never mind.” He ducked into the cab quickly, sliding across the seat. “Smithsonian, Freer Gallery,” he told the cabdriver.

Adam gave him a questioning look, but dropped it. “Alright. But what was that look you and Jack exchanged in the shop?”

Harry frowned, “Look?”

“When Allison’s shirt guy came up,” Adam said. He watched Harry, and Harry was pretty sure that sort of intense look was inhuman. He half expected that they could crash and Adam wouldn’t notice, he was so focused.

“Oh, that. He disturbed both of us. I mentioned it to Jack at the time. I think Jack was on high alert, higher than usual, the entire day and half we were there.” Harry brushed his hair out of his voice, his mind wandering back to the bloke from a week ago. “Hell, the man put me on alert. You know, I don’t think Allison was out of my sight for more than half an hour at a go when she wasn’t on the bus?”

Adam grinned, more in appreciation than amusement. “It means a lot that you look after her so carefully. You look after all of us, a miracle in itself, since even Angie is going insane from our exciting influence.”

Harry laughed, “I don’t, it just looks like I do because I’m always bringing junk food to your every location.”

“A talent I for one constantly appreciate,” Adam said.

Harry snorted, “It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. You’re all too busy running around like madmen all day. I’m still shocked you lot have a few hours off and aren’t in interviews today. Speaking of. Why in the world did you opt to see a museum instead of shopping with your girls?” Harry asked. “And none of this ‘art is interesting’ publicity bullshit you pull.”

“Bullshit?” Adam put on a small pout. “That hurts, Harry.”

“Doesn’t make it less true, love.” Harry said. “You’ve got a better publicity face than anyone I’ve ever met.” Including myself, Harry thought silently. Because Harry had had the bad habit of going off on the media, before he’d slipped away. “And since when do you give up time to shop in new towns?”

“I had planned to shop at the museum.” Adam grinned slightly, bumping his knee into Harry’s.

He scoffed, “You’re kidding.”

“Art _does_ interest me—”

“More than—”

“Occasionally more than shopping with Allicat and Lil,” Adam finished. Harry eyed him suspiciously. Adam held up a hand. “Swear.”

The cab pulled up to a large white building with columned archways framing a walkway around the building. “23.75.”

Adam paid the man and climbed out of the car, grabbing Harry’s hand to help him out. He just didn’t let go when Harry was on his feet. “This building is fierce. Very old style, authoritative,” He laughed.

Harry shook his head, “Authoritative? Never looked at it that way.”

“Aside from hitchhiking to DC,” Adam tugged him along toward the entrance, “why did you end up coming here, or sightseeing enough to end up at the museum?”

Harry gave Adam a startled look before he burst out laughing. He didn’t get himself under control until they had entered the building and came up to the service desk, little chuckles bursting forth into laughter every time he managed to stop.

Adam kept watching him and smiling, as if it was contagious, eyes bright with curiosity. He dropped Harry’s hand and tucked an arm around his waist, this time, Harry suspected, to keep him on his feet as he laughed their way across the room.

The young man at the desk glanced up from the computer as Harry leaned against it, still catching his breath, and began in a bored tone, “Welcome to the Freer Gallery, how may I be…” He trailed off. “Harry?”

“Rob.” Harry grinned at him. “I thought you planned to get shot of this place months ago?”

Rob made a face, “Yeah, but the catering thing fell through. What are you doing back? I thought you didn’t hit the same city twice?” He grinned, turning to Adam. “And who’s your… Oh my god.”

“I’m just traveling through. This is Adam Lambert. I work for him actually,” Harry said.

Adam squeezed Harry’s hip in reproach. “We’re friends,” Adam amended.

“You were on American Idol.” Rob glanced toward Harry. “You’re, what, working for American Idol now? Damn, you do get around. I always thought you exaggerated.”

Harry could feel the interested stare from Adam, which he flatly ignored. “Yeah, yeah. Floor plans, Robbie? Brochures? That is what you do, isn’t it?” He smirked, “And I’m sure if you ask nicely Adam will give you his autograph.”

Robbie made the bitchiest face Harry could imagine, “Funny. Really.” Then he sighed, glancing at Adam surreptitiously. “But my girlfriend’s a really big fan. I think she’s going to the concert tomorrow.” He looked at Adam sheepishly. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

Adam grinned, “Not at all. It still shocks me that people _ask_.”

“Oh, great! I will win points for this!” Rob dug into his wallet, searching out something. He whipped a photo out. “That’s her, Ellie. I, uh, have a pen here somewhere…”

Harry pulled out a marker.

Adam eyed him. “You carry them with you?”

“Just one,” Harry said. “After the Tulsa debacle.”

Adam snorted.

“So Robbie? Floor plans? Any special exhibition admission fees?” Harry tilted his head toward the entrance to the museum proper.

Rob waved a hand. “Don’t be stupid. You worked here for almost six months. Just go in. Arnie’s working on a set on the special gallery upstairs, if you want to scare the shit out of him.”

As they headed into the museum Adam leaned over and hummed in his ear, “You worked here for six months? You might have mentioned that.”

Harry coughed to cover the bubble of laughter and shrugged a shoulder. “Slipped my mind. What do you want to see first?”

“Slipped your mind?” The disbelief was clear in Adam’s voice. “Is that what you found so funny?”

“It’s not all that important anymore. And yeah, it was,” Harry said, grin blossoming. “There’s two exhibitions going on right now, some modernist paintings deal and, ah, furniture by Charles Rohlfs.”

“Furniture?” Adam asked, distracted. “That’s art?”

“Apparently he was big in his time? I’ve seen some of his work, and to be honest there’s a phallic edge to it, especially his chairs,” Harry said. He smiled suddenly, “It’s a shame we won’t be here in three or four months. As I recall there was a quilt show in the works.”

Adam paused for a second, clearly debating between what to respond with. After a second he shrugged, “Go back to the phallic chairs part.”

Harry laughed, “It’s entirely my personal, uneducated opinion. They’ll be upstairs. I don’t know what it’s doing in this building, honestly… Not usually for furniture exhibitions.”

\----------

The chairs were exceedingly boring. It didn’t really matter how many embellishments an artist carved into a chair, it was still a chair. An uncomfortable one, by all appearances. Adam did say something about how they would make excellent props. Harry almost asked, and suddenly thought better of it.

Which is how they ended up wandering the general displays of the museum. Harry was surprised by how much Adam seemed to know about random artifacts and paintings from completely random periods.

Adam shrugged, “You pick it up when you’re constantly surrounded by friends who also happen to be artists.”

“You’re an artist,” Harry pointed out with some amusement.

“And proud of it,” Adam laughed. “Fierce, the Egyptian display.” He nearly vibrated with excitement as they turned the corner, passing through a narrow entrance into the well lit room.

“A fan?” Harry grinned.

“You couldn’t guess?” Adam lifted his arm, showing off his tattoo of the Eye of Horus.

“I have a tattoo whose obvious meaning isn’t remotely close to its actual meaning for me,” Harry said. “I wasn’t going to assume.”

“Oh?” Adam said, arching an eyebrow. “What’s the tattoo of? Where is it?”

“It’s a closely guarded secret.”

“Oh, that is a challenge if I ever heard one,” Adam declared, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He tightened his arm around Harry’s waist—the one that continually reappeared no matter how many times Harry thought he’d outsmarted him—and suddenly he was being pulled up against Adam’s chest. “I’m going to guess…” His hand wandered briskly down Harry’s back.

“No, you’re not!” Harry pulled away with a jerk. He laughed even as his face turned bright red and that dull sense of panic set in his brain. “We’ve got to work on your sense of personal space.”

“That’s easy enough, I don’t have one,” Adam said brightly. He didn’t reach for Harry again, just started strolling down the hallway slowly.

“We’re in a highly public museum, you’re a celebrity, and most people don’t know how bloody friendly you are, Adam,” Harry said reproachfully, catching up quickly. He ran into Adam’s back as the man stopped suddenly.

Adam turned and gave Harry a confused look, “Come again?”

Harry blinked, “You should be more careful.”

Adam stared at him, “Okay, one, I don’t care what people think. Two, I’m not _that_ friendly…”

“Please,” Harry said. “You flirt with me all the time! And Kris. And Allison. Even Jack. Your favorite cosmetician—”

That made Adam grin, “Maggie just asks for it. It’s called affection, Harry. And I don’t flirt with Jack or Alli, or… Okay, occasionally with Kris, but that’s like breathing.”

“That’s my point,” Harry said.

“Christ, are you serious?” Adam huffed slightly. “It’s all been in vain?”

The completely confused expression on Harry’s face seemed to answer Adam’s question because he heaved a sigh, grabbed Harry’s hand and started walking down the hall again, muttering. “Oh my _god_ , I don’t believe this.”

“Don’t believe what?” Harry asked, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice. Why did Adam have to be so damn confusing?

Adam shot him a sideways glance, “Never mind. It’s nothing.” ‘Oh my god,’ he mouthed silently. Harry scowled at him.

“I’ve missed at least half of the Egyptian set,” Adam declared a minute later. “Let’s go back through.”

“When did you become interested in Egypt?” Harry asked, because the silence as they walked was starting to become overbearing. He and Adam always had something to say. It felt like they had just had a bloody fight, and he had no idea why or what it was about or if it was over. He felt he should be watching for eggshells, to make sure he didn’t walk on any.

“When I was a kid,” Adam said. His pace slowed as they hit the end of the room and began retracing their steps. “My family vacationed there for a couple weeks. We went through every available pyramid, the Karnak temples… We stopped at Giza, Luxor, Alexandria, Cairo. It was fierce.”

“I always loved Alexandria. The ancient remains there are breathtaking,” Harry said absently. They stopped at a display room with three sarcophaguses.

Adam gave Harry a strange look, “There aren’t many monuments left in Alexandria. Most of it was destroyed.”

Harry froze for a brief second, “Right. You’re right, I was thinking of Luxor, with the temple of Karnak. I don’t know why I said Alexandria.” Merlin’s balls, he’d forgotten wizards hid most of the remains in Alexandria. Bill would have killed him for letting that slip.

“…right.” Adam peered down through the glass case containing an open sarcophagus. “Mummies always creeped me out.”

Harry smirked, “Did you watch ‘The Mummy’ then? A friend of mine made me sit through those. I thought they were funny, laughed my way through them.” He propped himself next to Adam, leaning down to look into the case. “Of course, they were completely absurd, weren’t they? But mummies never scared me. When you have mummy-like buggers attack you at least three separate times in your life, you learn to deal with them quickly.”

Adam burst out laughing, “When the hell did ‘mummy-like buggers’ ever attack you?”

Harry stared in shock. He’d said that out loud? Adam was smiling down out him, laughter still escaping every few seconds. Harry could not believe the day he was having. “Idiots in costumes,” he said weakly after a second of scrambling. “My cousin when I was a kid, then, erm, Halloween at school. Once more when I was traveling around with a couple mates.”

“I’m not sure guys in suits count as ‘mummy-like,’” Adam said, still chuckling occasionally, half-breathless.

“They looked very realistic!” Harry objected. “And they almost scared the shit out of me, which is how each of them ended up severely injured.”

Adam went off again, laughing until he was in tears. Harry waved on the few visitors that peered in at them. He smiled at Adam in amusement. “True story.” For the most part, sort of. All three experiences were actually with the undead, and they’d all ended up dead—really dead—not just severely injured.

Adam wiped the tears away, “Remind me to keep you around next time there’s a mummy attack.”

Harry nodded seriously, “I’m your man.”

That sobered Adam up quickly, “You must be.” He was staring at Harry intently once more, laughter still lingering in his eyes. “Even if you’re disturbingly naïve.”

Harry frowned, “What? I am _not_ —” Adam leaned in and cut him off with a light kiss, brushed softly across his lips.

“You are,” Adam said, not moving away. He pressed another kiss against Harry’s mouth as Harry froze in shock, eyes wide and staring at Adam.

Adam sighed slightly, breath puffing along Harry’s lips and cheeks, and pulled away slowly. “Harry? This whole kissing thing usually works better if the other person kisses back.”

“Um,” Harry said. A part of his brain had imploded the second Adam’s lips met his. He couldn’t think. “I… erm. It’s, we’re really late. Jack’s going to murder us.” He pulled away quickly, putting a decent amount of distance between the two of them.

“Harry—” Adam tried.

“No, no.” Harry waved him off. “We really have to go. It’s ten to six. You’ll have to call on the way back. I can’t believe we only made it through one building.”

“ _Harry_ —”

Harry was already hightailing it out into the hallway. He was also already working up a story to explain… explain what just happened in there. “This is what I mean about your excessively affectionate nature,” he said. Because that was simply the easiest way to account for everything, to make it make sense.

Adam stared at his back, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He ran to catch up with Harry. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”

“I don’t know what—”

“Harry, it was a—hello, Rob.” Adam looked like he wanted to strangle the man.

“Hey.” Rob nodded at them. He led a small tour group past them. “As you can see, we’ve come upon our unfortunately small Egyptian collection…” His voice trailed off into the distance as Harry rounded the corner.

Adam followed. He caught Harry’s hand. “Wait a second, alright? I’ll be right back.”

Harry frowned as Adam disappeared around the corner again. He peeked around to see Adam dash up to Robbie. They spoke for a few minutes and Adam handed over something as Robbie gaped at him. When Adam returned, Harry arched an eyebrow, “What was that?” He only half meant the little trip over to Rob.

“I just remembered I had backstage VIP tickets. They give two out to everybody, you know? It’s not like there’s anyone I have to invite, so…” Adam shrugged. He caught up Harry’s hand again. “We’re going to be late, remember?”

All of a sudden Adam was just going to drop what he’d tried to pick at a minute ago?

“That was nice,” Harry said. He couldn’t quite hide his put out tone, but he couldn’t bring himself to bring up the subject. If Adam was willing to let it go, Harry should be relieved, shouldn’t he?

Adam looked down at him, torn between amusement and complete confusion, unable to tell if Harry was upset about inviting Robbie or the kiss.

“You’d better call Jack, Adam,” Harry reminded him as they stepped outside. He hailed down a taxi. “You know how tetchy he gets when we’re late.”

Adam sighed. “Right.”

\----------

“Who’s this guy again?” Allison asked.

Adam groaned, “Alli, c’mon. His name’s Robbie, he’s a couple inches shorter than me. Short, light reddish blond hair, looks like he’s sixteen though he’s apparently 24. He’ll have a short blond girl with him named Evie. No, Elsie. Ellie. Or Emma.”

Kris arched an eyebrow before he burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

Adam rolled his eyes, “No. Forget her name. I’m serious.” He looked around at the little powwow he’d called together. The five Idols stared back at him. “We all want to know more about Harry. Or I was _under that impression_ , but if you don’t want to bother, that’s fine…”

“Okay, okay, chill, bro,” Allison fought back the grin. “We do wanna know. Not as badly as you. And if Jack knew there was a source to pump for info, well, I’m not sure this guy would survive… But we do want to know.”

“Yeah, Harry’s like our collective mystery game,” Anoop grinned.

“Which game would that be?” Kris laughed. “Who’s Who?”

“I was thinking he’d be something like Memory,” Anoop said, grin broadening. “Because you have to remember all the little details that keep vanishing under rocks again.”

“Oh, come on,” Lil said. “We’ve got planning to do. Besides, if Harry was a mystery game, he’d be Clue, hands down.”

“He’d be poker,” Adam stepped in. “But that’s not the point—”

“Poker is not a mystery game!” Matt said before he started laughing, sliding off the arm of the couch to land trapped between it and Lil.

“It is if you’re doing it right!” Adam said, “Like sex.”

“Oh, you did not go there,” Kris groaned.

“I did,” Adam said. “But I’m more than willing to get back on track here.”

“Okay, run it down one more time,” Allison said. She sat up straighter and sent a look toward the others. “We won’t interrupt this time, promise.”

Adam looked skeptical, but started, because it wasn’t like they had much more time before someone wondered where they were and hunted them down. “This guy, Rob, works at the museum we went to. Harry worked there for _six months_ , and apparently he told stories that Rob didn’t believe until we came walking in today.”

“Okay…” Anoop began.

“So this guy knows stories about Harry that may or may not be true?” Lil made a face.

“It’s not much to go on, is it?” Kris pointed out.

“And you all have better leads?” Adam asked. “I’m not expecting anything, but it’s worth a shot since I got Rob to come to the show tomorrow.”

“But they could just be stories to impress his coworkers anyway,” Allison said.

“Harry’s not the type to lie,” Matt said. The group collectively looked at him in surprise. “He’s not!” Matt insisted. “He’s a nice guy and I don’t think he’s lied once since he’s been here. If he didn’t mind lying, he wouldn’t go to so much effort to just avoid talking about his life, he’d just lie about it flat out.”

“Or he knows lies are more likely to get caught,” Lil said.

“Damn, Lil, cynical much?” Anoop said.

“I’m just saying—!”

“And I’m saying we all like Harry,” Adam interrupted, irritated. “Do any of us _not_ trust him?”

The group slowly shook their heads.

“I was saying, Harry doesn’t lie,” Matt said again. “He told me this really creepy story about his uncle after we saw that horror flick with the twins, and honestly, the look in his eyes? I believed him.” At the curious looks he added, “No, I’m not sharing it. It was personal and I respect that he was willing to confide in me. You bunch of losers.”

Allison flung a peanut at him. “He told me something once too.” At the accusatory looks she protested, “I just forgot, okay? I’ll tell it now, though! It wasn’t anything in confidence.”

“Then spill it, Allicat.” Adam popped down on the chair he’d been leaning against.

“It wasn’t a big deal really. I mentioned something about how difficult it was to date with the tour and CD and fame and all that shit. Harry said it was difficult no matter what the circumstances were. He told me how he grew up knowing this girl, who was sort of the girl-next-door type, and they didn’t get together until—”

“You’re not saying he’s straight, because the way he looks at Adam…” Anoop scoffed.

“No,” Allison stared. “If you’d let me finish the story? Thank-you. They didn’t end up dating despite something like being destined to end up together until after there was an incident at their school where another student nearly died, and that drove them together.”

“…that’s the story?” Adam asked in disbelief. It was the first time Allison had sent him into speechlessness.

“That’s the end of the themed part about dating, anyway,” Allison said with a grin.

“So there’s a point to this?” Kris asked.

Allison flung another peanut. “I thought this was a “facts about Harry” meeting? So you’re all getting facts. Anyway, after that I pushed to know more, because what happened to this being straight business? I didn’t actually say that, but something like why he didn’t end up with her if there was an unstoppable destiny thing going on.” Allison took a deep breath. “He laughed at the question. This girl was his first girlfriend! They’d been in love, or thought they were, and planned on getting married, because that seemed like what everyone expected to happen. They actually got as far as the altar, according to Harry, when she said no at the vows.”

“And…”

“And that’s it. They called off the wedding right there in front of everybody. He said later they had a long chat, and they both felt relieved about everything. His girlfriend said, and this is a quote, ‘We should have worked this bugger out sooner, Harry, when we noticed we were attracted to the same people,’” Allison smirked.

There was a long silence.

“Geez,” Allison said finally. “Last time I fill you guys in on the dirt.”

Matt coughed, “Alright. That was the most bizarre coming out story I’ve ever heard. Any more random Harry stories floating around?”

“Nah, I’ve heard way weirder,” Adam shook his head. “Ah, he’s been to Egypt?”

“Alli’s story is so much better than that,” Lil laughed.

“And back to the planning,” Anoop rolled his eyes.

Kris shrugged. “Plan A, corner this Rob guy and pump him for information. If one of us gets him alone, the others go on alert for Harry and Jack and distract them as long as possible. If they break through the barrier we abort mission. Report on all findings post-meet and greet.”

Adam couldn’t stop from chuckling, “I don’t think we need a plan B.”

\----------

Robbie felt cornered. “When I said Kris was her favorite I didn’t mean that he should drag her off to some place to chat.” He leaned over and peered around Matt’s shoulders. “…where are they going?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Matt said cheerfully, shifting back in front of him. “Kris’s married.”

“Plus we’ll catch up with them in a minute, honey,” Lil added brightly. “But we thought we would drag you off to the back room where we chill. No one will miss us much, and you can hang out until Harry’s freed up from work.”

Matt nodded and threw an arm over Rob’s shoulder, leading him quickly toward a side exit of the room flooded with a few dozen fans. “This is one of the busiest of the busy times around here, and Harry’s probably been pulled onto one of the security teams.”

They shuffled out into the hallway. Matt dropped his arm away and Robbie took a deep, relieved breath. “Harry’s working security?”

“Oh yeah, pretty standard situation these days,” Matt noted.

“Is that weird?” Lil asked.

Robbie shrugged, “Yeah. Sort of. Nah, not really.”

“Ah,” Lil glanced at him, not her bafflement apparent as they jogged along, passing door after door. “That’s… that made no sense.”

“I dunno, security always seemed to suit him,” Robbie said. “He noticed all the weird characters. Not just the weird ones, because oddballs always stroll into the museum, spouting off this and that, but I mean, the really _weird_ ones, who were trouble from the get-go. He noticed them all, and kept an eye on them and usually had them out of the museum at the first signs of trouble.” Rob snickered, “One time this shithead, the size of a house and drunk up to his eyeballs—hundred proof vodka I’m pretty sure, the awful cheap stuff—started feeling up one of the Japanese statues we had on display. It was nuts! This the room?”

Robbie veered into the room as Matt pushed open the door and popped nervously onto one of the couches.

“Soda, Rob? Or juice? I think there’s some beer too…” Matt dug around in the fridge.

“God, a beer would be great,” Rob said. “Where’s Ellie?”

“They’ll be along in a moment.” Lil sat on the armrest next to him. “What happened with the drunk guy?”

“It was a mess.” Rob accepted the beer. This was one of those surreal moments in his life. He remembered he had a lot more of them when Harry was still living in DC. “Harry went down with security to deal with this guy; he’s usually pretty decent with people until he gets pissed. You wouldn’t believe it when he goes off, sort of goes off with this scary look in his eye. We had to call the cops in, this drunk guy took out the two security guards. The bastard broke four statues, two irreparably! Harry was stuck behind a vase display until the cops arrived. It was the first time I ever saw him incapable of taking someone out. Well, the drunk was as big as a house, but… Harry did manage to drag the guards behind the display with him. He’s just good with crises and shit.”

“Is that your way of saying he’s good at security work or bad at it?” Matt said from the couch across from him. He sipped from a bottle of orange juice. “Sounds like Harry sucks at it.”

Robbie waved a hand impatiently and took a swig of beer. “You’re missing the point totally. That was the first guy Harry couldn’t handle. He’s really good at that shit. It always made us wonder. Half of us had a bet on what his real job entailed.” He grinned. “Half of us thought he was a government spy keeping an eye on someone or something at the museum. Jeff used to panic genies or demons would pop out of every bottle or vase Harry took an interest in.” Robbie took another drink and then began twisting the bottle in his fingers. “Harry was always… Erm, eccentric? His stories were nuts. I decided to believe them because it was more entertaining that way, but who knows? The funny thing is, some of the stuff he got interested in did end up being moved out of the museum. One of the curators said they were being removed for further research or storage or new displays. Jeff always asked so he could spread the latest gossip.”

“Did his stories ever match up with his skills?” Lil asked.

“Jeff’s?” Rob said, baffled. “Jeff’s a conspiracy buff. Why?”

“I mean Harry’s,” Lil said. “Did he stories line up with being a cop or something?”

“Nah, not really.”

Matt perked up a little at Rob’s last words. “You said that earlier. When you said Harry wasn’t a good security guy?”

“Is this some sort of interrogation?” Robbie laughed, a nervous edge creeping into his voice.

“No, no,” Matt said quickly. “I was thinking… If Harry’s bad at security for some reason, maybe he shouldn’t be working it on the tour—”

“Oh, fuck, I didn’t just get him fired?” Rob jumped up. “I didn’t mean he was bad at it! Didn’t I just explain he’s really good? I didn’t—”

Lil shot Matt a dirty look. “Harry’s not fired. Matt’s trying to be funny, and you might notice he sucks at it.” Matt gave her an injured look. “Calm down, Robbie.” She patted him on the arm. “You’re wound tight.”

“Sorry.” Robbie sat. “Where’s Ellie and—”

“Right here, hon,” Ellie said as she breezed through the door. “Kris showed me his guitar and he played a short piece. It was _amazing_. He is so nice!” She smiled brightly at Kris as he closed the door and sat. “What have you been up to?”

“Just talking.” Rob shrugged. He snuck a hand out to grab hers. “Had fun, huh?”

“Actually,” Lil jumped in quickly. “Rob was just telling us about working with Harry. Isn’t it interesting how people meet and, ah, relationships interconnect?”

“Harry stories?” Ellie squeezed his hand, glancing up at him. “You couldn’t wait to share, could you? Those are always pretty insane. Going into his Russia thing?”

“I was explaining that Harry’s a good security member, not a shitty one, because I nearly got him fired,” Rob said, a little too quickly. “Not any of Harry’s crazy, unbelievable shit.”

“But you believe—” Ellie began.

“What I meant was,” Rob spoke a little louder and a little more quickly, cutting off Ellie, “that Harry never seemed to care for doing security work. Our manager offered him a transfer to that department. Remember, Ellie? He refused it flat out, said he preferred staying behind the customer service desk. Insane.” Rob shook his head.

Lil, Kris, and Matt exchanged looks. Rob wondered if he’d let on to something he shouldn’t have. He thought the Spanish Inquisition couldn’t be as uncomfortable as this, and he’d seen some artifacts related to it.

Kris cleared his throat pointedly before offering an easily smile. “What’s the Russia story? That sounds like fun.”

Robbie flushed. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Go ahead and tell them!” Ellie smiled and nudged him in the side in pure exasperation. “Hon, you love sharing that story. Every time Margie asks for a story, out it comes.”

He stared sulkily at the floor and muttered out, “Harry once told me about how he worked to uncover a big prostitute ring the Russian mafia was running. Or that’s what it sounded like from the vague descriptions of each group. I can’t be sure. He never even mentioned his partner’s name, or anything about the mafia, nothing specific, but it _sounded_ like that.” He looked around the room, carefully not looking anyone in the eye. “Harry’s good at stories, but that’s all they are. You should ask him to share a few. He knows them best. Geez.” He glanced at his watch. “We’re talking about him so much and he isn’t even here. I thought the bastard would be off by now. When’s he getting here?”

“But if they’re just stories, you could tell them…” Lil pointed out, looking disappointed.

Rob shook his head and stood. “They’re no big deal. I think I’ll hunt down Harry. I always wondered where he headed off to when he left.”

The Idols exchanged looks. Well, bully for them. Their information source just caved in. Rob steeled himself to withstand torture and remain quiet. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he was done with it. He did not sign up for this when his girlfriend’s idol gave him backstage passes to impress her.

“Sit and relax, Rob. I’ll text to see if he’s free yet.” Lil fiddled with her phone, sending a message off before picking up her drink. “Should be here soon!”

\----------

“Harry,” Adam caught his arm as the man walked past. “If you’re not working… Are you wearing glasses?” He stopped short and studied Harry a little closer. Thick, round lenses encased in black plastic. “You’re wearing glasses! Since when—oh my god, you wear contacts?”

That blush Adam was always so thrilled to induce was blooming across Harry’s cheeks. His favorite roadie adjusted the rims with a swift, irritated gesture and pushed a hand through his hair. “Only you would make a big deal about my glasses.”

“It’s like you were hiding them,” Adam widened his eyes and pouted just a little, just to get Harry to glare at him. The man really was too sexy to be allowed.

“I wear contacts, Adam,” Harry said. “I lost one earlier. My spare are packed. So, my glasses. Mystery solved, I hope?”

“You should wear them more often. You have no idea how sexy you look in them,” Adam informed him, looking him up and down slowly. He was pleased to watch the redness spread along to Harry’s ears. He smiled sweetly, unable to stop himself in the face of such adorable aggravation.

“Is there something you wanted?” Harry asked waspishly.

He switched his smile from sweet to ‘you’ll want to kill me, but I’m lovable’ sweet. “This is Sandra and her daughter, Clemence. Big fans.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Harry smiled at the small woman and her daughter. “I’d love to stay and chat, but there’s someone I need to catch over there—”

“I thought you had the night off?” Adam asked.

“Jack wanted me upstairs, but I bargained out of it.” He smiled ruefully. “I’ll have double duty in Baltimore.”

“So you can stay.” Adam happily slid an arm around his waist. “You can protect me from my adoring crowd.” He winked at the girls. Clemence giggled while her mother coughed to cover her smile.

Harry frowned, “You know, you look quite familiar, Sandra. Have you come to other shows? I know a few fans do.”

“Well, I may have been to another one or two. What can I say? We’re both big fans. But we don’t want to keep you to ourselves all night, Adam. Clem and I will let you do the rounds. It was lovely meeting you both,” Sandra said, catching up Clemence’s hand.

“No autograph?” Harry asked as they walked away, glancing up at Adam.

“…she got one earlier, when we first met,” Adam said. He squeezed Harry slightly, “So—”

“She didn’t ask for a hug either,” Harry said, brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Adam cursed silently. “Some people aren’t huggers, Harry,” he pointed out. “You’re not big on them yourself.”

“Fans always ask for the hug. It might as well be an unwritten command. And the kid didn’t ask either.” He looked up at Adam, eyes narrowing. Adam braced himself. Harry was so fucking on to him. He worked it out and was about to rip into him. “And we are not talking about me and my hugging habits, thank-you. If you’ll kindly unwrap yourself from my person, I do have things to do—”

“I need protection.” Adam blurted out far too cheerfully. It was from pure relief and glee that his Diabolical Plan, tm, was still on. After all, Harry hadn’t worked it out or he’d be more pissed by now. “And you’ve already admitted you have the night off. I’m going to feel hurt if you don’t want to spend any of it with me.”

“You have Jack,” Harry said.

“He’s off, being busy somewhere.” Adam steered them toward the table set up for autographs.

“I was planning to spend the night with Rob,” Harry said.

“Harry! He has a girlfriend!” Adam gasped, eyes widening in shock. Fans and crew alike looked at them curiously.

Harry scowled, “Funny. I meant reminiscing.”

“You have all night. Besides,” Adam looked around, across the heads filling the room. “Looks like your friend is busy. Kris is dragging them off over there.” He nodded toward the back.

Harry looked, “Kris is dragging off Ellie. Where’s Rob?”

“He has to be there,” Adam said. “He’s probably through the doorway already.”

“I don’t see him,” Harry said.

“I’m taller than you,” Adam said. “And my boots add on at least two more inches.”

“And your point?”

“I have a clearer view.” Adam tugged Harry around the table, smiling broadly as Harry chuckled. Walking through the room was slow progress. Every few feet a fan approached him. He greeted them, chatted, signed something and occasionally hugged someone. Photos were requested by nearly every person. Harry played cameraman and each time he would take the opportunity to crane around and look for Rob. When Adam gave him the amused, slightly questioning look, Harry muttered something about watching for predators and psychopaths, since he was playing bodyguard, which only made Adam laugh.

“I don’t think we have to worry about psychopaths, baby.” In Adam’s opinion, Harry did inscrutable really well for the big things, but he was easy as pie to read for anything else. As if it wasn’t completely obvious he was trying to worm away to find Rob. Harry really was a terrible liar. But if Adam let Harry go before he heard from Lil his entire plot would be for nothing. Besides, this way he got to keep Harry around him awhile longer, and that was always a plus in his book, ever since he first saw Harry in that little bohemian coffee shop and found out the jaded, adorable chai addict was working the tour.

Harry elbowed him in the side, “If there aren’t any psychopaths then why am I here again?”

“Just in case,” Adam said. “We’ve cleverly disguised you as my cameraman and you’re undercover, just in case.”

“I feel I’m the one being protected, not the other way around,” Harry grumbled. He straightened his glasses again.

Adam watched him avidly. “You need to wear those more often.”

That skeptical black eyebrow arched up, “You’re kidding.”

Adam licked his lips. “Shamelessly sexy,” he informed his partner, looking him up and down. His fingers itched to pluck off the glasses, inspect them and Harry a little closer. Damn, he’d never noticed how much he liked to touch people until he _couldn’t_. “Maybe get a few pair. Silver rims, muted browns, rhinestones. Switch them up.”

Harry shook his head, mouth quirked. “You pull off fashion much better than I do. I like simplicity. And I think someone wants you.”

Adam’s eyes glittered, “If there’s a god, that’d be you, right, baby?”

His mouth split into a broad grin, “Nope, no god, sorry, love.” He nodded his head to the left.

Adam turned and offered a big smile to the decked-out girl hovering a few yards away, staring and hesitating. “Hey, I don’t bite, you know.” He ignored Harry’s disbelieving snort, finishing smoothly, “Not on the first date. Love your earrings. Work ‘em, girl.”

He could tell Harry was looking around the room again, inspecting it for any appearance of Rob. He reached out and Harry sighed a little when he caught his wrist.

The rest of the evening Adam did his damnedest to hold on to Harry: an arm around his waist, or a hand locked into a sleeve, or fingers interlaced. When he couldn’t keep hold of Harry he kept him within reach or sight at all times. More than once Adam was forced to let go, distracted with sweet – and occasionally alarming – fans, only to have Harry ease slowly away. Every time that happened Adam barely managed to get him back. The last time he grabbed the nearest thing in reach, the back of Harry’s belt, and he was pretty sure there would be an unfortunate picture floating around the internet tomorrow, because a flash or four had gone off the precise moment he’d slid his fingers around belt and pants alike and tugged Harry backward. Harry stumbled straight back into Adam’s side.

“Adam,” Harry said, and the tone promised an incredibly ugly argument.

“You have no interest in protecting my assets whatsoever, do you?” Adam sighed dramatically. He’d known the second the flash went off Harry would react badly. He was fairly sure he could defuse this, given a little time and improvisation. He looked around. The group around them, fans and crew both, were watching them avidly. The crew had the decency to watch out of the corners of their eyes, but the fans and few interviewers still around were watching outright. A little privacy wouldn’t hurt. Not that he could simply drag Harry off, because fuck knew where that would lead the gossip train. He didn’t particularly care—the rumors were usually hideously inaccurate and ragingly funny—but he was cluing in to the fact that Harry did, and Harry had been just the tiniest bit pissy and distant with him since the museum incident yesterday.

“I’m not your bodyguard.” Harry couldn’t stop the note of exasperation in his voice. “And I worked to get this night off for a reason.”

“Rob,” Adam said.

“Yes Rob,” Harry said. “You’re surprised? You’re the one who invited him in the first place.”

“So he could impress his girlfriend.” Adam smiled, as easy as breathing really despite the bitchy expression Harry was aiming at him, and he nodded toward the hallway. “I need coffee and we can dig up Jack at the same time.”

Harry blinked, taken aback. Realization seemed to dawn on him; Adam could just see the blush darkening Harry’s cheeks as he looked around surreptitiously at their audience. He nodded tensely, yanked on the front of Adam’s t-shirt, and urged him toward the exit. “I’m retiring from security next chance I get. I’d rather work with computers,” Harry informed Adam’s back. Adam glanced back and saw the flinch as a camera clicked and a flash went off.

In the hallway Adam took over, turning into the first door they passed. He swung the door open, grabbed Harry, and hauled him into the dark room.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

“I lied,” Adam said. “I don’t want coffee, I want to talk.”

“In a pitch black janitor’s closet?” Harry said.

Adam paused briefly, then turned and leaned forward into Harry, hands groping behind him.

Harry pulled back quickly, “What the hell are you thinking—”

Then he found what he was looking for, and flipped the light switch on. He smirked down at Harry, one eyebrow arched high. “I was thinking of turning on the light.” At Harry’s tense reaction Adam couldn’t help but add, “What were _you_ thinking?” Even though it was clear what he had been thinking. Sometimes watching Harry really was like reading a book, so perfectly fucking crystal clear.

A flash of annoyance shot across Harry’s face, disappearing as quickly as it came. “Why did you want to ‘talk,’ Adam?”

“Okay, I more wanted to chat and escape the crowd for awhile,” Adam admitted.

“You’ve barely got fifteen minutes to go. You couldn’t stick it out?” Harry sounded skeptical. He knew as well as anyone Adam thrived off the energy of his fans more than anything else, as much as the music even. Adam was notorious for being friendly.

“But—”

“What confuses me,” Harry kept on, bulldozing over Adam, who immediately stopped talking, not minding in the slightest. Getting Harry’s opinion without prying for it would be a refreshing change. “Is why you seem hell-bent on keeping me from meeting up with Rob? And where the fuck has Kris gone? He’s as much of an attraction as you are at these things. Angie must be having a fit. And Matt? Hell, half the Idols… Angie is going to murder the lot of you. _What_ is going on, Adam?”

Adam blinked, and thanked the universe he had so much acting experience. It made the small lies a hell of a lot easier. “I have no idea what the others are doing, Harry. I’m not their babysitter or a mind reader.” He frowned at Harry. “And I’m not keeping you from Rob. You’ve been _avoiding_ me like I’ve picked up the plague.” That distracted Harry. He looked completely taken aback. And it wasn’t like it wasn’t true. Maybe Adam could get some damn answers.

“Since when have I been avoiding you? I spend more time with you than I ever have with anyone since I left school.” Harry looked torn between disbelief and irritation.

“Since yesterday, at the museum.” Adam almost added ‘with the kiss,’ as if they were playing Clue and he was revealing the mystery. Maybe Harry really was the tour’s personal mystery game.

“…you’re joking,” Harry said.

Adam didn’t quite cover his injured expression, “You’ve declined… three requests from Jack, two from me and Alli, and one from Angie. The only connection between any of them is that I’d be there. God, Harry, if I thought you’d get that upset about a _kiss_ —”

The notorious blush bloomed across Harry’s face. “It has absolutely nothing to do with _that_. It’s been a long day. Half the stuff I should have had done yesterday I had to do today, on top of today’s list. I do have a job here, Adam. I’m not always available to fill every bloody request. Mind, I’d appreciate a little more sensibility from you on occasion.”

Okay, that was a fair point. He hadn’t thought of that. “Shit.” Which just about summed it up. But… “What do you mean, ‘sensibility’?”

Harry stared at him like he was an idiot. “I know you’re physical with your friends, Adam, but quite honestly I don’t want to end up pasted across the front page of some tabloid as your rumored boyfriend. I don’t…I just don’t want that.”

“Why do you care?” Adam shook his head with sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “We _are_ friends. Who cares what everyone else thinks?”

“I do,” Harry said flatly. That was really the end of that. “I don’t want to deal with it, Adam. Fame fucking sucks, okay? I know you enjoy it; you can handle it. I can’t. I don’t want cameras flashing in my face because I’m out eating and someone recognizes me. I just want to be me, without the pressure.”

Adam realized this was an obstacle. A big one that put a huge roadblock in his way. But he was not deterred. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. Harry was staring at him, but Adam was thinking and not inclined to rush. “Okay,” he finally said. Really, what else could he say? ‘Get over it’? Or, ‘You’re wrong about this one so I’m going to make you see it my way’? Yeah, that would not only never work, but it would probably make him the biggest asshole on the planet. “But it’s who I am, Harry. You’re still my… friend and I’m not going to pretend you’re not.”

“I’m not asking—”

“Yes, you are,” Adam said, staring Harry down.

Harry sighed, head dropping, hand running along his jaw and neck in frustration. “I’m not. I’m only—”

Adam caught the hand and cut him off, causing Harry to look back up at him in surprise. “So compromise. I’ll try to not,” he grinned, “maul you in public. But you’re not escaping anything on the road or on the job.” He paused for a second, staring past Harry at the shelves of cleaning supplies, before focusing back. “I suppose we should get back. Just one last thing… I don’t get why the media or attention should stop you from being yourself. Don’t let them pressure you just because they’re there, Harry.”

Before Harry could respond Adam’s phone went off. He flipped it open and read the message. “Well, I know where the others are hiding out anyway. Lil says they’re chilling with Rob and Ellie in the back, a few doors down. You should go meet them, there’s only a few minutes left on this little party.” He smiled at Harry. “And if Kris is back there, send his cute ass out.”

He reached for the door handle, but before he opened it, he leaned down and dropped a loud, wet kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Since we’re in a closet and all.”

He strolled out as Harry glared at his back.

\----------


	2. Chapter 2

  
“Hey, kids,” Harry said as he stepped into the little lounge. He looked around. There was Lil and Matt on one couch. Rob and Kris were sitting on the other, with Ellie sandwiched tightly between them, looking positively thrilled with life. Harry guessed Rob would end up a very, very happy man later tonight. Even if he currently looked like he was approaching his own execution. “Kris,” he nodded toward the door. “If you don’t get back out there for the end, Angie will kill you and eat you for a nice midnight snack.” He glanced at the others. “Goes the same for you two.”

“Can I come along?” Ellie jumped up from the couch. “This is awesome. Did you see all the people out there? And I haven’t met Allison yet.” She smiled down at Rob. “Meet you in a bit, Robbie?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I wanna catch up with Harry.”

She grinned, “Oh, we three are going out for drinks after, at the very least. Your friend _Harry_ does not come to town without spending a little time with me.” She patted Harry’s shoulder as she passed him, filing out of the room with Kris. “I want to hear all about Bermuda!”

Lil and Matt slowly followed her out, glancing back at the two left in the room. Robbie watched until they left as Harry grabbed a drink and dropped down in a chair.

Rob groaned in relief as the door clicked shut, rubbing at his face with both hands. “Jesus, I think I was just interrogated, Harry.”

Harry bit back his amusement, “What do you mean?”

“They were like, crazy mad to hear stories about you.” He shook his head, staring at the coffee table in front of him. His eyes were slightly glazed. “I’ve no clue why… No, that’s not true. You were always interesting when you worked at the museum with all of us. Everyone always theorized about you, Harry.”

Harry grinned slightly, “You mean the djinn theory or the voodoo priest one?”

“Djinn _theories_ , and don’t forget the government spy-and-or-mafia stories that went around. Bermuda didn’t help.” Rob grinned too.

“So now Lil and everyone will be running around wondering if I’m going to do a little voodoo on them?” Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know if he found that more funny or frustrating. Why was it impossible to escape the rumors?

Rob shrugged, looking slightly apologetic. “I tried not to say anything. They were like PI’s, Harry—“

“PI’s?” Harry interrupted, confused.

“Private investigators.” Rob filled in automatically. It’d become habit between them, because Harry always seemed to lose track of the simplest acronym or culture reference. Rob, Harry knew, figured it was the British thing. Harry knew it was the wizard thing. Spending half his life out of touch with the muggle world left him blank on more than a few references. “I let out you worked security sort of casually before, but since you work it here, I guess that’s alright. I let out the Russian thing though.”

“Russian thing,” Harry said.

“Yeah.” Rob fidgeted. “With the mafia? And your partner and the girls you helped.”

“…how the hell did that come up?” Harry asked, genuinely amazed. Merlin, if the Idols were on the “Russian thing” they would work at it until it fell apart. And there was no bloody way he would ever be able to explain it. He hoped they would manage to keep it from Jack, but he wouldn’t hold his breath on that one.

Rob shook his head, “I told you, Harry. They kept asking the entire time.”

“About me?”

“Who else?”

Harry’s amusement vanished. A few things were connecting in his head. And he could guess Adam was somehow connected to it. It would explain all the intrigue running high among the Idols all day. He focused back on Robbie, shelving the revelation for now. “Did Kris give you and Ellie the grand tour? The stage can be a fun thing to see. People always get a kick walking across it.”

Rob blinked at the change of subject. “Ah, no. Kris showed Ellie his guitars and things, I guess. Lil and Matt brought me back here to wait for you to get off. I’m surprised you’re not working until the signing is over.”

Shock melted into irritation. He could smell the plotting a mile away. He should have seen it earlier. Bloody hell. “Yeah, well, Jack—he’s basically head of security—didn’t need me as long as he thought tonight.” He nudged Rob’s leg with his foot. “Besides, we need all the time we can get to catch up. Tell me how you convinced Ellie to go on a date. Last I remember, she was still only the pretty clerk working at the restaurant down the street from your flat.”

Harry knew the Idols would be heading out to do barrier autographs soon. He relaxed as he and Rob chatted for at least an hour before the door swung open once more. Ellie bounced in with Kris, Jack, and Allison behind her.

“No Adam?” Harry asked Jack, not bothering to hide his grin. Jack rarely let Adam out of his sight. Harry had no doubt Jack had been watching him from the security center all night. Partly it was that the fans were prone to concentrate around him, especially the crazy ones. But Harry knew it was also partly because Adam was one of the few Idols prone toward crazy shenanigans.

“He’ll be along,” Jack nodded.

“Ready for drinks, boys?” Ellie asked. “There are a few great bars about ten minutes from here. I’d go to the ones just down the street, best wings in the city, but I’m guessing some fans have gone for post-concert drinks themselves.”

“I won’t say no to a couple more beers,” Rob said. He practically jumped up from the couch. The sidelong glance he sent Kris and Allison nearly made Harry laugh.

“Hold your horses,” Jack said. “You’ve got a few guests coming along.”

“Who,” Rob started.

“Kris!” Ellie said brightly. “And Adam, Matt, and Jack.”

“Ah,” Allison cut in. “Matt’s already crashing on the bus. He’s more exhausted than even he realized I think. And, I was hoping Kris would hang out here with me. I’ve, erm, got homework. You did say you were decent at history, didn’t you, Kris?”

Confusion flashed across his face before he blinked. “…right. You’re on the civil war right now?”

“Korea,” Allison corrected.

“Ah, I don’t know anything about that.” Kris smiled apologetically and ran a hand through his hair. “I think Meg knows something about it though.”

“But you could try to help me,” Allison said pointedly.

“Really, Alli, I don’t have a _clue_ about it.”

Allison scowled, “You really don’t. Fine then.” She rolled her eyes, but waved at everyone as she opened the door. “See you when you’re back.”

“I guess we’re waiting for one then,” Harry said mildly. Except he wasn’t sure he wanted to see Adam right now. The news from Rob was starting to nag at him again, as well as Allison’s behavior.

Just outside the door they heard Allison’s voice. “Sandy! Clem!”

And a second voice, a child’s, “Alli! Look what Matty gave me!”

“That’s awesome, sweetie. Unicorns are the new black, right?”

“Hell yeah!” The girl shouted.

“Clem!” A third voice scolded.

Allison’s voice was filled with laughter, “Are you looking for Matt now, Sandy?”

The third voice, Sandy, said, “Yeah. We’re off now, but I wanted to say goodbye to my crazy nephew before you all roll out. Are you going tonight or tomorrow morning?”

“Somewhere in between. Matt’s on the bus, I’ll show you where,” Allison said. The voices trailed off down the hall, Clem’s the loudest as she showed off her unicorn.

Those voices were familiar. Really familiar. He was sure he’d just heard them… Oh. Sandra and Clemence. Harry’s slight annoyance shifted to flow blown anger. What the bloody fuck? Adam had acted like he hadn’t known them, only an hour ago.

Adam practically bounded into the room. “I heard something about drinks?”

“How are you not tired?” Jack asked.

“How could I possibly be tired?” Adam returned. “We had an amazing audience.”

“Let’s get to the bar.” Harry suggested, sliding past Adam and Jack at the doorway. He didn’t bother to hide the pissed tone of his voice. Rob followed him out. Harry could almost feel the sets of eyes staring at him as he strode down the hall and out to the private parking lot. They still had a van to travel around the city. He climbed in as the others arrived. Rob and Ellie came in next, Rob settling down beside him and Ellie sitting in front of him next to Kris. Adam and Jack were in the front, Adam muttering something to Jack. Jack shrugged.

\----------

“So.” Rob tapped his fingers on the tabletop. It was hard to tell if it was from boredom or nerves. “This is a nice place. My first time here. It’s called The General’s?”

“Yeah, it’s a nice bar,” Kris nodded along, gazing around the room interestedly.

There was a long silence before Rob said, “Those drinks should be along soon.”

Ellie buried her head in her hands, Kris and Adam stared. Harry ignored it and continued his project of digging through the mixed nuts. He was collecting a small pile of cashews in front of him. Jack snorted, this was turning into one hell of an evening. Drinks with friends was a concept Jack was intimately familiar with. Sometimes it got a little rowdy, and turned into one hell of an evening of a different sort. This evening, he thought contemplatively, was one for the record books even for him. The last time he went out for drinks and things got this tense, had to be ’95, and…

“You’re hoarding the cashews,” Kris commented, eyes riveted on Harry’s pile. “Ever think some of us might like a few?”

Harry met his gaze, popped a cashew in his mouth. “Nope.”

“Harry,” Jack started. He could see the disappointment in Harry’s eyes when the drinks arrived. The man wanted to fight. That didn’t bode well.

Rob’s screwdriver was set in front of him. “Can I get another?” He asked. The waitress frowned, but he picked up his drink and threw the whole thing back. “Or maybe two?”

“Ah,” Ellie started as the waitress vanished. “Robbie, you were telling the mafia story, remember?”

“Um,” Robbie stuttered.

Kris flushed guiltily.

Adam looked on innocently, shooting confused looks between everyone. Jack’s eyes narrowed. He knew something was up. “Mafia story?” They spoke simultaneously.

“Apparently,” Harry said sourly, “When one spent enough time with one’s bodyguard or client one began to resemble them.”

“Harry,” Jack started again before Rob spoke.

“It’s nothing,” Robbie said, shooting Harry an unhappy look.

“Oh, it’s a fun story!” Ellie objected. She glanced around the table which was quickly turning into a tumultuous mess of emotions. “About Harry? Right, Harry?”

“Can’t say as I give much of a shit.” Harry followed Rob’s example and threw back his whiskey. “If you’ll excuse me, I need another drink and I’d rather not be here for this farce of a plot and complete disrespect for my person.”

However Adam did not move from the edge of the booth they were all crammed in. He looked obstinate, staring at him with a mixture of shock and irritation. Harry huffed, climbed up so he stood on the seat and walked right over him. “Next time try moving,” he advised, voice dripping acid.

“Harry!” Adam called after him in complete disbelief. “What the fuck—” He half rose out of his seat. Jack reached across the table and grabbed his arm.

At Adam’s angry glare, he said, “I suggest you let him go. The man clearly needs a little space.” He turned his attention back to the others. “Now. What is this mafia story? Kris? Elaine? Robert?” He looked at them each slowly. He didn’t bother with Adam, whose blank expression said it all; he didn’t know shit about it.

“It was just something we were talking about earlier.” Kris turned pink. He focused on his beer, twisting it in his hands. “Rob’s known Harry longer than us. It just seemed—ow!”

Adam was excellent at aiming his kicks. Jack was excellent at noticing subtle movement, including the air rushing past as Adam moved to stop Kris. Jack turned his look on Adam. “Spill it, wonderboy.”

“I don’t know what this mafia thing is,” Adam objected.

“Yes, but something tells me you know why Harry’s currently up at the bar, throwing back his third whiskey in five minutes,” Jack said.

Adam craned around toward the bar, concern plastered across his expressive face. “Third..? We just got here.”

“Making now the perfect time to explain what the hell you’ve been up to all day,” Jack said.

Adam turned back around, “All day?”

“Do you want me to list it all?” Jack inquired with a friendly smile.

Adam was not one to back down from a challenge. He met Jack’s gaze squarely. “That would be illuminating, yeah.”

Jack raised a finger, “You vanished off the radar with half the Idols yesterday for over an hour.” A second digit popped up, “You dragged Harry around the meet and greet all evening tonight. On his specifically requested night off. And apparently,” a third finger came up as he glanced briefly at the other three, “You _encouraged_ Rob to share his knowledge about Harry. Ringing any bells?”

“It was all planned?” Rob sounded indignant, giving Adam the perfect reason to avoid answering Jack’s inquisition.

“Rob,” Adam began.

“Shut it,” Rob snapped. “I’ve had enough of this. I am going.” He made to leave.

Jack stopped him. “Wait a minute, Rob. Just sit back down. I know what these two did was idiotic.” He shot a look between Kris and Adam. Kris took a quick slurp off his beer. Adam met Jack’s gaze defiantly. “Nevertheless, I’d like to hear the mafia story myself.”

Rob gave him an incredulous look. “How about, no?”

“How about—”

“ _Harry_!” Someone yelled across the bar, which effectively cut off their entire conversation. The group turned as one to locate the source of the cry. A tall Puerto Rican in leather pants and white t-shirt jumped up from a table across the room and strode toward the bar, waving enthusiastically in Harry’s direction.

Harry had swung around and was facing the on-comer warily, elbow propped up on the bar behind him, whiskey glass dangling from one hand. The suspicious look vanished and a smile spread across Harry’s face. He stood quickly and held out his arms. “Marco, you son of a bitch!” carried across the small room.

Jack glanced at Adam and saw the sharp look of displeasure as Marco swept Harry up into a hug, lifting him straight off his feet. Jack braced himself to grab onto his charge if he should try to head into a fight. He was sure Harry would start one if Adam marched over there.

Marco set Harry back on the ground, but didn’t let him out of the embrace. Instead he turned his mouth in toward Harry’s ear, whispering something and grinning like a loon.

Harry laughed and nodded, answering with a smirk.

Marco pulled back, but his hand slid along Harry’s arm and snagged his hand. He said something. Jack tensed, prepared to grab Adam, who was looking more and more unhappy.

But Harry shook his head at Marco. He reached back toward the bar. Marco groaned loudly, “Oh my lord, forget about it, Harry. We have booze at the table!” He pulled on Harry, literally dragging him across the room to a table crowded with men and women, all of them, Jack guessed, in their twenties and all of them wearing something closer to nothing. This was a crowd he expected Adam to end up in, not Harry.

A woman yelled and slinked an arm around Harry’s waist. The crowd pulled him in until he was seated on the table among the masses. Someone pushed a bottle into his hand. Harry eyed the bottle, listening to the woman, before tilting back, taking as long a swig as he could manage while trying not to laugh at the group’s antics.

He was smiling, the anger completely wiped clear from his face. Jack slanted a glance toward his rock star charge.

Adam was slouching back into the booth, arms crossed and a frown pressed into his mouth, eyebrows drawn. It was easy to see where Harry’s storm cloud had resettled.

\----------

Every time Harry looked toward their table his frown returned. Adam simply waited, not sure what he was waiting for. Jack was sitting back, keeping an eye on Harry. Rob looked between Harry’s antics and Adam’s frozen countenance with something akin to glee even as Ellie hit Kris up for conversation, which Kris gladly obliged her with.

Harry still kept glancing over at their table.

Marco rested a hand on Harry’s arm, leaned in, whispered something in his ear. Harry shook his head and smiled briefly. He leaned back into Marco, speaking as he motioned toward the table.

Marco sat back and shrugged.

Adam watched it all with growing frustration. What the fuck?

He watched as Harry eased his way out of the crowd. He strolled back to their table, relaxed and lazy. It was a state of calm that seemed to fluctuate as he approached. He smiled, somewhat stiltedly, at the group waiting on him. Adam couldn’t find the words for what he was witnessing, whatever the fuck it was. He didn’t even know.

“I half expected you to head back to the hotel at some point,” Harry said.

“And leave you here to fend for yourself?” Adam asked archly, glancing pointedly at the group Harry had left behind him. A few of them were watching and exchanging laughs.

“I know the area,” Harry said, smile dropping off slightly. Adam abso-fucking-lutely hated Harry was mad at _him_. He was sure it should be the other way around anyway. “I’d be fine. Rob probably said, or did you not plumb the depths of your source?”

“Hey,” Rob said indignantly. “Give me some credit, would you.”

“Oh, Rob,” Harry winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I do trust your judgment. I didn’t…”

Rob looked mollified and waved Harry’s apology off. “I know. You just get scary touchy when people pry. I remember the djinn incident.”

Adam’s eyes glittered with suppressed anger. “Fuck forbid you share with me, though. No, that would be a fucking crime, wouldn’t it?” He could reasonably argue he only did it because Harry was a closed book—that _is_ why he’d done it—but he’d be damned if he was going to give Harry the satisfaction of trying to justify himself. It would only come off as some sort of apology and he wasn’t sorry.

Harry’s expression turned brittle. “Have you ever bothered asking? I can’t recall.”

“Have you ever freely offered anything up at all? No,” Adam snapped. “People shouldn’t have to ask for every single detail of your life. Sometimes you just share it. It’s called being a human being, Harry.”

“So I’m not human now?” Harry asked icily.

“Okay,” Jack stepped in. “I think that’s enough of that, you two. Why don’t we head back to the hotel? If you feel you have to continue this, you can do it there.”

“Thank god,” Kris muttered.

Harry glanced at Jack, “No.”

“…no?” Jack said.

“I’m going dancing with a few mates.” Harry stepped back, “Go ahead and head back. I’ll pop in before the busses roll out.”

Jack frowned, “Harry, they want to go early.” He glanced down at his watch. It was two in the morning. “In a couple hours, five at the latest.”

“I’ll be back,” Harry said.

“I’m going with,” Adam spoke up.

Harry stared at him, “What?”

“I feel like dancing,” Adam shrugged, a mulish expression planted on his face. “Anything wrong?”

“You weren’t invited, for one.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you don’t own all the bars and clubs in DC,” Adam said. “So I think I can go out to a club without your invitation.” He stood and turned back to the others, “Anyone else coming?”

Jack gave a long suffering sigh, “Just me, I suspect.”

Kris harrumphed, “Damn straight. Ellie, Rob, care to share a cab?”

Ellie nodded. Rob shot a concerned look toward Harry. “You sure?”

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off Adam, “Yeah, get home. You work tomorrow, remember. We’ll be fine.”

\----------

Marco took them to the largest gay club on the DC scene, Apex. It was Harry’s favorite place, the absolute best locale to have fun without anyone paying much attention. The five floors and six bars helped with that.

It was crowded, as Harry expected it to be. Men and women moved in and out, running up between floors, crowding the bars and swamping the dance floors.

It was exactly as Harry remembered it. He even recognized more people than he ever thought he knew in DC.

Marco beamed at the crowd, catching Harry’s hand and pulling him through the masses. “Drinks first, eh?” He asked the group, already heading for the bar. “You still on whiskey, Harry, or you ready for a change of pace?”

“Mixers,” Harry shouted over the noise as the dance number shifted to something metal. “I think half a bottle of whiskey’s enough, yeah?” He probably should have stopped earlier, he’d definitely reached the definition of drunk, but he was angry and trapped, and hell, he was going to drink and have fun if it killed him. He had to work some steam off.

Marco shook his head disbelievingly.

Harry glanced around to find Adam distracted by the countless half-naked men. Marco had led them up two floors to the third room, since the first two floors were much quieter and more relaxed than he preferred. By this stage most people were there for three reasons, dancing, drinking, and potentially hooking up, so half the dancers had half their clothes off. Most people wouldn’t find where they’d left their shit either, and end up meandering home half naked. The veterans of the club dressed appropriately and usually made friends with the bartenders, leaving items there.

Jack was propped against the bar, already nursing what Harry guessed to be a coke, watching the circle of men forming around Adam. It was easy to understand why. At 6’1” and in heels on top of it, dark hair, broad shoulders, and oozing ease and confidence in his tight jeans and loose t-shirt, Adam was attention-grabbing.

Harry watched with mixed feelings of irritation and relief as a small well toned man wearing only a pair of cut-off jeans sidled up to Adam and pressed flush across his body. Adam took it in stride, laughing and swinging an arm around the bloke’s shoulder. A couple other men moved in, nodding toward the dance floor.

Adam glanced up briefly, seeking out Harry and Jack. He seemed to note where they were before leading his group toward the pulsing throng of people on the dance floor.

Harry turned away, smirking up at Marco, trying very hard to forget the way Adam was strutting off with his new groupies. Frustration twisted in his gut.

Marco gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. “Harry, you are going to have fun tonight. It’s my goal.”

“Oh great, so I get to be your project too now?” Harry rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that was exactly what he wanted. Release some tension, forget the way his head was messed up over Adam and everything involving him.

Marco leaned away, “Rwar, kitty. Pull the claws back in.”

Harry’s mouth twitched, offering the smallest hint of a smile. “I forgot you don’t take anything personally.”

“What are we fake boyfriends for?” Marco laughed.

“For getting rid of skeeves,” Harry said. His smile broadened slightly. For awhile skeeves had been Marco’s favorite word.

“There are so many of them,” Marco nodded sagely. “Now get your ass moving, chacho. We’ve got a little circulating to do. There are a few boys I am dying for you to meet.”

“I don’t do boys, Marco,” Harry reminded.

It was Marco’s turn to roll his eyes. “Men then. Nice, fully grown men. Almost as tall as me. You’ll have fun with them.” He shot Harry a glance. “Unless you’re stuck on someone else.”

Harry felt reproached at that. Was he that bloody obvious? He resolved to try harder and followed closely behind Marco as he pulled him away. They slid past countless nameless faces as Marco led Harry up another flight of stairs. Harry watched as people filed past. The tamest thing on this floor was a shirtless man. Most were decked out in leather and lace, with liberal amounts of sparkle. The rest were stripped down to underwear or wearing dramatic costumes with some spectacular corsets.

Marco continued his trek through the club, holding their two vodka mixers above his head. Harry trailed closely behind him, half tempted to hang onto his t-shirt. It was easy to lose track of a person and then be unable to find them for hours.

“Aha, there you are!” Marco crowed. “Alexander, I have a surprise for you to meet!” Marco set the drinks down on a tiny table set along with a dozen others against the wall. He pulled Harry forward, “This is the infamous Harry Grey.”

Harry smiled and offered his hand to Alexander, who stood up at Harry’s appearance. “Nice to meet you, Alexander.”

“Just Alex. Marco’s got a weird thing with names.” His eyes slid down Harry’s body. “Where’s he been hiding someone as sexy as you?”

Harry almost laughed. He held it in and returned the curious, interested gaze with one of his own. Alex was handsome: tall, lithe, dark-haired, with broad shoulders and wide hands. Harry couldn’t find a single flaw for his purposes tonight.

Oh hell, except for one. He hesitated, then said, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” Because like hell he was going to lead some bloke on when all he wanted was to get off or have a quick shag.

Marco made a noise of protest beside him. Harry ignored him, watching Alex steadfastly.

Alex looked surprised, but he chuckled after a minute. “Harry, to be perfectly frank, I’m not looking for anything long term. I just want to have fun.”

Marco groaned, but was grinning broadly, “This means I don’t have to introduce you to anyone else?”

A smile curved across Harry’s lips. He waved Marco off. “You’ve done well. I owe you some pricey restaurant dinner.”

“Those pecan things you made would fit the bill,” Marco thumped him on the shoulder. “Now I’ve got a date with the charming “Miss” Lizzie upstairs. Ciao, boys.”

Alex grinned, “Wanna dance?”

Harry wanted to say no, he wanted to fuck and generally get the itch off his back. But dancing would have to do for the moment. Instead of answering he caught Alex’s hand, pulling him onto the floor. The techno beat was fast and pounding and mesmeric. Perfect. Harry slid up close, settling hands on hip and side, fingers curling onto his back and digging in ever so slightly. One of Alex’s hand slid down to cup Harry’s arse, urging him closer, pressing their bodies together. Harry undulated against Alex, shifting against his body, making sure they were lined up perfectly. Yes, dancing would do nicely for now.

\----------

This was unbelievable.

Adam looked away for five—okay, possibly ten—minutes and he turned back to find Harry and Marco completely vanished from sight. Jack was still there, comfortably sitting on a stool, watching Adam gyrate with some guy. Harry was gone.

Adam worked his way off the floor, steadfastly refusing the tugs on his clothes and requests for dances. The tattooed blond he’d been with reattached himself to a new dancer.

Adam leaned against the bar next to Jack and ordered a drink. “Where’s Harry?” He asked, not really caring how obvious his jealousy was. This night was turning out to be spectacularly bad.

Jack arched an eyebrow at him.

Adam narrowed his eyes, “Look, I felt like dancing, alright? You can get off my back about it.” Jack’s eyebrows went up further. “This is _not_ my fault.” And a little further. “You’re fucking impossible.” He accepted the martini from the bartender, pushing cash across the counter.

Jack cleared his throat.

“Can you blame me for being mad?” Adam asked. “He’s all touchy and sensitive… and then this Mark guy comes along hugging him and touching him like it’s no big deal, which it so obviously is to Harry. What does Mark have that I—”

“Marco,” Jack said.

“Whatever—”

“No, Marco is right there,” Jack said. He pointed toward the stairs. “Harry went up some time ago.”

Adam followed Jack’s gaze. “Right.” He quickly swallowed the rest of the martini. “I’ll be right back, just gonna ask about Harry.” Jack snorted.

Adam marched across the club. Or he tried. Really, he walked, slid, and squeezed through the crowd across the club. He would have marched if he could, feeling in a particularly vindictive, domineering, marching mood. He caught Marco just at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey!”

Marco turned to him in surprise. “Glamouroso, I thought you were lost to the dance floor!”

Adam was only slightly taken aback at Marco’s cheerful tone. Maybe rude wouldn’t be the best method of extracting information. Direct might work. Adam wasn’t sure he could do better than that at the moment. “Where’s Harry?”

Marco shook his head and pointed upstairs. “Last I saw him, up there, but that was an hour ago, Glamouroso.”

Adam nodded, “Think he’s still up there?”

Marco shrugged, “Couldn’t say. He seemed intent on undoing Alex, you know?”

Adam did. He was not fucking happy about it. “Thanks.” He had to get upstairs, pronto.

“No problem, Glamouroso. Hey,” he caught Adam’s arm, “Just look after him, would you?”

Adam frowned, “Harry’s not much into that ‘looking after’ thing.”

“Yeah, he says that. Acts it too most of the time.” Marco shook his head, “He doesn’t mean it.” He pressed a cooler into Adam’s hand. “Have a drink. Try the cage up on the fifth floor.”

Adam watched him go for about two seconds before shooting up the stairs. He peripherally saw Jack jump up to follow him. He picked up his speed. Maybe if he got up fast enough Jack would lose track of him for five minutes.

It turned out to be easier to lose Jack than he thought it would be. The floor was packed. Adam kept a lookout for Harry, but nothing caught his eye. He kept moving up, hitting the fifth floor. His instinct told him Marco was right and the cage was his best shot.

The cage, a literal cage, ran the length of the room, standing almost as a sixth floor to the place. It was half filled with dancing, gyrating, thrusting bodies. Couples pressed against the bars, bracing themselves for exhibitionistic exposure and going at it for all they were worth. Adam climbed up into it along a thin metal staircase. He passed couple after couple, each one making out and groping, losing clothes as fast as people did in LA. It would have been a wicked reminder of home, if he hadn’t had the image of some guy pressing Harry against the bars and stripping him bare stuck in his head. This was all fucking insane and unfair and he was going to rip into Harry as soon as he found the asshole.

Then Adam looked down. Harry wasn’t in the cage. Adam wasn’t into the bible overly, but suddenly the ‘ask and ye shall receive’ line seemed particularly poignant. Harry was on the ground, about six feet in front of him. He had some guy—Alex, Adam guessed—pressed into the wall and he was fucking going to town on him.

Adam was not having any of this shit. He made his way back along the cage, out, and across the floor once more. He came on Harry just as Harry’s hand disappeared into his partner’s jeans.

Adam slipped up behind Harry, close enough to feel Harry’s body heat even in the hot club, and caught his arm, tugging the hand out, because really, what the fuck? He kept hold of his arm, dragging him away at top speed, completely ignoring the dazed, drunk guy they were leaving behind. Harry gazed up at him with unfocused eyes.

“You’re kidding, right?” Harry asked, his voice slurred and accent thick. He stumbled along behind Adam, half tripping and reaching out to grab hold of Adam’s shirt. “Slow down, would you, you bloody idiot.”

“That’s my fucking line,” Adam snapped irritably. He led them through the maze of bodies, not really sure where he was going. Then he spotted it, and made a beeline for the door.

“The loo?” Harry asked incredulously.

“We’re going to talk now, even if it means doing it in the bathroom.” Adam pulled Harry in. Then he looked around at the half crowded room and promptly kicked everyone out. He was more than a little surprised that no one protested and it only took five minutes to get everyone out of room, even the men locked in the stalls. Maybe it was the expression on Adam’s face, the alpha one of his friends joked about when he was pissed. Or maybe it was Harry holding himself up at the sink, looking past drunk and irritated as hell, with a hard-on that was hard to fucking miss. Adam scowled, that Alex-whoever.

“Are you insane?” Harry demanded, pushing off from the sink to turn toward Adam.

“Are you?” Adam returned.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense—”

“I don’t get you,” Adam snapped. He pushed Harry against the wall, who grabbed Adam’s arm to steady himself. “I’m right here, and you know what, I’m fucking _great_. But no, there’s something horribly wrong with me, there must be! You go to some random bar and random club and feel up a bunch of random men. You’re getting off with some stranger—”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Harry snapped, squeezing Adam’s arm and looking a little disoriented as he glared up at him.

That’s what Harry focused on? Confusion and disbelief slammed into him like a bolt of lightning. He didn’t know whether to respond with more frustration, because Harry was clearly missing the point, or pleasure, because out of all that, _he_ was what Harry chose to focus on. Of course, Harry was really drunk… And he wasn’t much better. Shit. This was so…

Harry pushed against Adam’s chest uselessly. “I wish you’d knock this off,” He complained.

“Knock what off?” Adam scowled.

“This!” Harry gave up pushing and waved between them as best he could. “This! This flirting nonsense, like it means anything.”

Adam closed his eyes, pure exasperation written across his face. “It’s not nonsense, Harry.”

“Don’t—”

“It’s not.” He leaned in the last foot of space and briefly pressed his mouth to Harry’s. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

“You bloody spied on me,” Harry said, still visibly angry.

Adam cut him off with another kiss. He didn’t want to get into that, and kissing seemed a vastly better plan. He suspected if he tried the ‘I didn’t feel like I had much choice’ argument again the fight would start all over. He nipped gently at Harry’s lower lip before swiping his tongue across it. Apology and request.

Harry groaned, mouth sliding open. Adam hummed slightly, feeling triumphant. He let his hands wander, because holy fuck, he’d been wanting to do this for weeks and Harry was finally letting him. One hand rested on Harry’s hip, gripping slightly, holding Harry close. He slid fingers under Harry’s shirt, working his other hand up along his stomach and chest, sliding around to his back. He dug his nails in slightly. Harry arched away from the slight pain, pressing forward into Adam. Adam deepened their kiss briefly before pulling back to nuzzle along his neck.

“That guy looked just like me.” Adam trailed kisses along Harry’s jawbone.

“He didn’t,” Harry sighed, tilting his head to allow better access. He trailed a hand up Adam’s arm, across his shoulder to curl at the nape of his neck. He settled his other arm around Adam’s waist, pulling them tight together. He pressed his hips up into Adam’s, rocking slightly. “He was completely different.”

Adam scoffed, “He was tall, brunette, and hot. Even his name’s close to mine.” He slid his hand down to Harry’s thigh, pulling, hiking Harry’s leg up to brace against his own. Fuck, he just wanted to pick Harry up completely, have him wrap his legs around Adam’s waist, press into him, push into him.

“‘Alex’ is nothing like ‘Adam,’” Harry groaned. He had the same idea, because he thrust up into Adam, shifted enough to press in against him harder. He grabbed Adam’s other hand and pulled it down to his leg. “Fucking Merlin.”

Oh, that was it. He couldn’t not… Adam shifted enough so he could pick him up and then pressed him hard against the wall. Harry’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist and their crotches lined up perfectly. They shifted together, thrusting and rubbing against each other steadily, Adam pushing up against him as Harry ground down. His arms had wrapped tightly around Adam’s shoulders, bracing himself. Adam happily kissed Harry as Harry’s fingers curled back into his hair again, dragging him in close.

It was going much too quickly and they had far too many clothes on, Adam thought vaguely, but god. He had Harry against a wall, fitted so perfectly against him, both of them moving and writhing and wanting, and the only thing in the world was them. Who the fuck cared about clothes? This was exactly where he wanted to be.

\----------

This could not be happening. Harry slowly picked up the paper Henry dropped on the table in front of him. “What is this?”

“I think the headline says it all.” Henry pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Sorry, man.” He sounded genuinely sympathetic.

Lisa sat between them. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened to anyone sooner.”

Harry stared at the cover with the cheesy title and grainy photo. “It’s too bloody early for this.” It really was. It was barely seven in the morning. He’d been up with half the crew since five this morning, checking out the venue and dealing with the time-sensitive elements. The Idols and anyone not needed were all passed out at the current hotel, the buses dropping them off and Angie making sure everyone was checked in and set up.

Some part of him was relieved Adam, Jack, and everyone bloody else hadn’t seen this yet. Angela alone would just throw a shit fit.

And right after… It’d only been a few days and Harry had been remarkably good at avoiding Adam. Yeah, this was not a good time for this.

“You okay, hon?” Lisa asked.

Harry shook his head, “This is ridiculous. Bloody hell.”

“It’ll blow over fast. It’s just gossip with nothing behind it,” Henry pointed out. “Anyone want another cup of coffee?”

Harry offered a twisted half-smile, “Right. Blow over.” He’d been there before. It would blow over. Until the next big incident that made everything resurface. And those times in the wizarding world there had been nothing behind the rumors, but this time…

>   
> **  
> _Rock Star Idol’s Relationship with Roadie: Love Boat Rocking on Rough Waters_   
> **   
> 

The full-page photo showed a distorted image of Harry pulling out from under Adam’s arm. It was from the bar a few day ago when they’d gone drinking with Rob and Ellie. Adam had casually slipped his arm around Harry’s shoulder on the way to The General’s. Harry had still been pissed—still _was_ a bit pissed, thank-you—because fuck, he had felt used.

And here was the tabloid to top of the perfect evening. Fuck fuck fuck.

>   
> _Is Adam Lambert in a loveless affair with uncaring roadie? More PHOTOS INSIDE, and the EXCLUSIVE story!!!_   
> 

Harry flipped open to the “exclusive” story. The pictures were of the meet and greet from DC. A charming one of Adam yanking on the back of his pants… An arm snuggly wrapped around his waist… One where Harry was giving Adam a surprisingly dirty look. …their “sneaking” out through the back door. Oh Merlin, and then there was the bar and the club. A picture of Harry in Marco’s arms, of Adam and Harry leaving Apex… He glanced through the article, hissed in disgust, and snapped it shut. He’d have to read it for details and damage control, but he could put it off for an hour at least. He had work to finish.

Thank god the Idol tour was stocked up with a couple PR managers, Angie who was a vicious bitch when she had to be, and Jack who would decapitate anyone who threatened the safety of the tour. Between them, Harry was confident they could kill this quickly.

They had to. Harry was not going to be another scandal for Adam to deal with. And vice versa.

\----------

Harry lowered the magazine, eyebrow arching in silent interest as he listened to the interview developing over the office intercom.

“Can’t wait to hear your album. You certainly make it sound hot. Now I have to ask, any truth to these tabloid rumors flying around?”

Harry heard Adam chuckle before speaking, “Which tabloid rumors are you asking about?”

The interviewer rolled with it. “There are quite a few, aren’t there? I was referring to the latest reoccurring theme. There are quite a few candid photos of you and one Harry Grey floating around.”

“Yeah, there are. Harry and I are good friends. He works on the tour. We spend a lot of time together. We all become close when cooped up together for so long.”

“But you two are especially close? You’ve been seen going out dancing, interviews, out at Starbucks… I understand he’s with you today? Of course, it’s no secret you’re gay, with that infamous Rolling Stone cover—”

“We go out and party every once and awhile, yeah, when we have the time, which we usually don’t. Today we’re working. He’s playing my assistant until I meet up with the busses again tomorrow.”

“Your schedule must be pretty insane. You have a concert tomorrow. What are you two still doing in New York?”

“It’s hard to leave such a vibrant city!” Adam joked. “Pretty hectic, yeah. But I had a photo shoot and this interview, of course, and I get to meet a couple people about my album later today before catching some early flight out to meet up with the tour.”

“And you and Grey are…”

“Friends,” Adam supplied. Harry could picture his easy smile, and suspected he was mentally adding an ‘according to one of us’ at the end of the one-word answer.

“The reason Grey’s the one who is ‘playing’ assistant is because,”

“He’s qualified?” Adam said. “Aside from that you’d have to ask our tour manage, who arranges these things.”

“If you two _were_ more—”

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell.” Adam laughed, “Usually.”

“Alright, I don’t know if that’s going to satisfy listeners, but why don’t we find out? Fans have been calling in the past hour, hoping to get the chance to talk to you.”

“Would love to,” Adam said without missing a beat.

“Adam will be here answering questions from his fans right after this word from our sponsors. Hang tight.”

Harry shook his head and went back to the article on the latest excavation in Israel, some sarcophagus or another. Ten minutes later Adam came strolling out of the booth. He caught Harry’s eye and winked before shaking the host’s hand.

Harry stood as his charge strolled over. “We’ve got a couple hours to kill before you’re due to meet Martin. Lunch?”

“Sounds great. Wanna walk?” Adam asked. He pressed the lift button and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“We rented a car for a reason,” Harry said.

“It’s a beautiful day in New York,” Adam said. “We should walk.”

“If you want to walk, let’s take the stairs,” Harry said. He veered for the stairwell. “The lift’s been haywire all day from what the receptionist says. How about that café, what, eight blocks down? The one you said had the eclectic vibe this morning?”

“Perfect. We can head down that cute shopping strip on the way there.” Adam tugged his sunglasses off the collar of his shirt, sliding them on as Harry held the door open for him. “What’d you think of the interview?”

“I thought the interviewer was a nosy bugger,” Harry said. “Otherwise wasn’t paying attention.”

“You wound me.” Adam fell in step with him as they weaved their way through the crowded streets.

“That’s why you’ve put your arm around my shoulder then? Injury?” Harry said. “I was thinking about Egypt.”

“That’s random,” Adam said. “What about Egypt is more interesting than me?”

“You want me to start a list?” Harry teased.

“You’re awful for the ego.”

“Your ego is fine without my help. I was thinking about a friend of mine. He works on digs, usually in Egypt. This dig in a Geographic magazine got me thinking about it.”

“Is that where your interest in Egypt comes from?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, my friend, Bill, works with artifacts. He was always talking about it when I saw him. Offered to take me along on a dig once,” Harry said.

Adam looked impressed. “Did you?”

“Yeah, just to get away from life for awhile,” Harry admitted. “It was brilliant. Hot, lots of sand. Lots of things I didn’t understand. But Bill got me access to the tomb they were excavating and I learned a lot.”

“Shit. That would be sick. How long was it?” Adam slowed their pace down as they came across a few vintage clothing shops. He glanced down at Harry.

“A few months, not very long,” Harry said. “You do not want that shirt, do you?”

“The paisley one? Nah, I’m not feeling it. The abstract ones though, they’ve got something working for them.”

“Right,” Harry said skeptically.

“I need to take you shopping,” Adam said. “Get you into something that isn’t a t-shirt and jeans.”

Harry tugged reflexively on his plain grey shirt. “You’re one to talk.”

“My shirts have some design. And I accessorize. And I wear leather every other night. You’re always in those jeans and tees.” Adam’s hand slid down to tug at Harry’ waistband. “Maybe some leather? Hm, or a nice suit. You’d look stunning in a classic black suit.”

“I like my jeans,” Harry said, pulling Adam’s hand off his arse. “And if you try to start dressing me we will never shake off this blossoming media attention.”

“That might be true. A fan asked about you,” Adam said nonchalantly. “Asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“In the interview? I don’t remember that.”

“Earlier, at the signing the other day.”

“And you said no,” Harry said. After a pause and no response from Adam, “Right?”

“I said I was working on it,” Adam said. He slanted a glance at Harry.

Harry froze for half a pace, his only visible reaction. “You what? Why would you do that?”

“I wasn’t going to lie,” Adam shrugged one shoulder. He picked up his pace, veering toward a window display. “How sick is that?”

Harry came to a halt beside him. “You want a purple pinstripe suit?” He stared at the mannequin, looking over the purple vest with sharply ironed white button up shirt under it and down the straight purple pants with the black thread embellishments. “It’s not about lying, it’s about being sensible.”

Adam made a noncommittal noise. “But it is hot. You would look—”

“No,” Harry said flatly. It reminded him of bureaucrats in an unpleasant way. He moved on, hoping Adam would follow him and not try to head into the shop.

Adam did catch up, lacing their fingers together. “Almost lost you. You’re too short, get behind one or two people and become untraceable. So why didn’t you keep working in Egypt?”

“The dig ended.” Harry glanced around the towering buildings as they made their way along the pavement. “The experience encouraged me to travel though. It’s what made me decide to travel through America, bits of Canada and Mexico too.”

“How long have you been wandering America?” Adam asked.

“Ah… bloody hell, seven years already. Doesn’t feel like it,” Harry said. “I pop home to visit friends every now and then, but largely I sort of fell off the map.”

“That’s good, family’s good. I didn’t think you kept in touch. They must worry about you,” Adam said. “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t reach my family.”

Harry chuckled, “A couple of them have my phone number and can reach me if they really want to. Mostly we’re okay knowing we’re all alive and off somewhere. Is touring odd then? Being out of touch from everyone? You call your mum fairly often, don’t you?”

“I call everyone whenever I can,” Adam said, squeezing Harry’s hand. “Danielle especially, and mom. I miss my girls like crazy.”

“And Brad,” Harry prompted, trying to casually tug his hand free. He’d heard a few Brad stories from Adam. From what he could gather they’d dated and he couldn’t quite figure out why they’d broken up.

Adam grinned, “Brad _is_ one of my girls.”

“Oh, sex change?” That would explain breaking up. Adam burst out laughing. He dropped Harry’s hand, clutching his sides. Harry turned to stare at him. “Something is funny. Alright, not a sex change then?” Adam’s laughter doubled.

When he caught his breath he shook his head. He wiped at his eyes, absently pushing his sunglasses to rest on top of his head. “Oh my god, tears. Thank god for water-proof eyeliner. Shit, that was…”

“Funny,” Harry said.

Adam giggled. “Brad hasn’t had a sex change since last I saw him.”

“…one of your _girls_?” Harry prompted.

Adam’s face was near splitting from the size of his grin. “You’re really clueless about gay club culture, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Adam shook his head, “What about Marco? And your friends in DC? That’s club culture, baby.”

Harry laughed, “Marco’s Marco, who likes to go dancing, mix drinks, and pry home-cooking out of me. Never really thought much past that.”

“Alright, home-cooking is not a club thing. You cook?” Adam asked, watching Harry with glittering eyes and raised eyebrows. “Any way I can get in on some of that action?”

“On and off, when I can. Marco likes these pecan biscuits I make. But he also thinks drinking out of a patent leather pump is brilliant.” When Adam broke down laughing again Harry fought back a smile, “I’m really not joking.”

“It’s really overrated,” Adam said, catching his breath.

“You haven’t!” Harry started laughing.

Adam beamed down at him, “Have. I wouldn’t recommend it. Doesn’t even help to be high.”

Harry leaned into him, “Mer-god, you’re all nuts, you know. All you ‘club boys.’”

“What is that?” Adam asked.

“What?” Harry asked.

“That ‘mer’ thing, you’re always stopping yourself from saying,” Adam said.

Harry tensed, “Oh. It’s—you noticed?”

He missed Adam’s smile, too busy staring at the pavement. “It’s distinct.”

“It’s just an expletive I’ve been trying to kick for awhile, something from my schooldays,” Harry said.

“What is it? M-e-r? I’ve never heard a cuss that starts that way.”

“ _Merde_?” Harry tried.

Adam snorted, “Does not count.”

“It could—”

“Nope.”

“I do speak some French,” Harry said. He leveled a challenging stare at Adam.

Adam’s eyes lit up, “You do? Conversationally?”

Harry felt like he walked into a trap somehow. Sudden bursts of enthusiasm from Adam tended to worry him. He hesitated. “Some.”

“Say something in French?” Adam asked. His attention was trained entirely on Harry.

“Do you speak French then?” Harry asked, thinking sidetracking him might work.

“Not the faintest,” Adam smiled. “Love the language though. You pick up phrases here and there. _Voulez-vous coucher avec moi_?”

Harry blinked blankly before he processed the words. His eyes widened. “Ah. Do you—er, you do know what that means, right?”

Adam started laughing at his expression, “God, Harry, of course I do.” He covered his face, shoulders shaking. When he looked back at Harry there were tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes. “You’re going to kill me at this rate.”

“I’m going to kill you?” Harry asked with a huff. “You just asked me to sleep with you.”

“Will you?” Adam asked.

“No,” Harry said. “And to be honest, no Frenchman will either.”

“What?” Adam’s eyebrow arched, “Why not? Too rude?”

“Too formal,” Harry said.

“Formal?” Adam repeated.

Harry nodded, “Too rude would be, I don’t know.” He squinted at the pavement. “ _Baise-moi_ , really.” Adam coughed suddenly, and if Harry didn’t know better he would guess he was choking. “I take it you know that phrase too.”

“Yeah, aren’t curses the first thing you learn in any language?” Adam said, somewhat breathless. He cleared his throat. “You sound like you’ve used the phrase before.”

“Long, long story involving Bill, his wife, and some embarrassing incidences with alcohol.” Harry just knew he was turning red. Adam’s intent stare wasn’t helping. “Subject change,” he said helplessly after a minute.

Adam huffed softly and they walked silently until he gasped a minute later. “Right! One, those shoes are sick.” He pulled Harry over to another shop window, arm still tucked around his waist. “The leopard print ones. Two,” he caught Harry’s eyes in the window reflection, “this all started because you have a cuss word that _isn’t merde_. Care to enlighten your captive audience?”

Harry stared at Adam’s reflection. He sighed a second later, “Right. Fine. It’s Merlin.”

“Merlin?” Adam sounded incredulous.

“Yeah. Would you mind not telling the others? It’s just a thing with me,” Harry said.

“Why… Yeah, okay. But,” Adam paused. “Merlin?”

“It’s from my—”

“Schooldays. Okay,” Adam said. “Is that a big phrase? It doesn’t sound overly… And I don’t ever remember hearing that when I was in Britain.”

“Very specific part of Britain,” Harry said. “Scotland, more like. Very distinct, very small area.”

“And you don’t want people hearing you say it?” Adam said.

“Sort of sets me out,” Harry explained.

Adam sighed, sounding more than a little exasperated. The arm around Harry’s waist pulled him in a little closer. “What is your thing with being different? Difference is a good thing.”

“I like being different,” Harry objected. “Usually I do anyway. I also like to keep a bit of a low profile. Sometimes it’s nice not being _noticed_ , love.”

Adam’s tone said he disagreed completely, “That’s why you want to be ‘just friends’ in public?”

Harry frowned, “We are just friends.”

“We’re more than friends, Harry,” Adam said. “We’ve flirted, we’ve kissed, we’re on a date right now—”

“—this is not a date, I’m your handler for the day—”

“We got off on each other in a club bathroom only a week ago,” Adam finished. “And fine, this is not technically a date, but it would be if you would let it. But this whole media thing turns you into one shy guy.”

“It’s not wrong to want to stay out of the tabloids. And also keep from hurting your career, might I add. And anyway, did you ever think I was protecting you? Protecting both of us?”

“Protecting us from what?” Adam pulled up to a stop in front of the eccentric little café. He let go of Harry just to turn and stare at him.

“Your career is just taking off,” Harry said. “You don’t need to be distracted by a boyfriend with a lot of media issues and a habit of collecting secrets.”

“I don’t care,” Adam said. “Look, Harry, I pursue what interests me. You interest me. At the end of the day, I don’t care what people will say about it. As for secrets, that’s one of the fun things about you.”

“My secrets,” Harry snorted.

“Yeah,” He smiled a little, eyes bright. “I bet you’re a lot easier to read than you think you are.”

“Easier to read,” Harry said.

“Yeah.”

“I am not.”

“That annoys the fuck out of you, doesn’t it?” Adam said smugly.

“Tosser,” Harry said.

“You like your secrets.”

Harry looked startled, “No-o. Just. Hell. Can we drop this and grab something to eat?”

Adam was far too triumphant when he stepped up to the door and pulled it open for Harry. “You’re a sphinx and you like it.”

Harry ignored him. He did not like his secrets. He just didn’t know how to go about explaining them. Only he couldn’t really explain that to Adam without explaining the secrets, which was the problem in itself, wasn’t it? The prat.

\----------

The café was dim, multicolored bulbs providing little light, but a distinct air. A bar ran the length of one wall and a couple dozen tables filled out the rest of the space. In every spare space sat a potted plant or large tank with exotic fish. The entire murky atmosphere reminded Adam vaguely of more than a few clubs. Harry moved forward, heading toward the back, and he followed slowly, enjoying the view. He loved how Harry decided things and just did them. It was a refreshing change from Adam’s current position, where everyone seemed to look to him for a decision about everything. Even picking out a simple café table felt like a big deal. Still, he had to ask,

“The place is half empty and we’re sitting by,” he tilted his chair back and craned around to peer down the dark hallway, “the bathrooms and the kitchen?”

Harry blinked, startled. “Sorry, did you want to move? It’s habit, really.”

Adam quirked an eyebrow, “Habit to sit by the kitchen, baby?” That was one for the record books, in his opinion.

Harry cleared his throat and smiled at the approaching waitress. After they ordered drinks, he turned back to Adam. “The back door,” He nodded toward the kitchen, “Would be through there. It’s habit.”

Adam clued in. “To have an escape route that _isn’t_ the front door.” That spoke of either a lot of experience or a lot of paranoia. He watched his companion contemplatively until Harry was fidgeting and frowning under his scrutiny.

“Did you want to move then?” He asked.

“No, this is good. You’re full of surprises,” Adam half shrugged. He thanked the waitress as she set his tea in front of him and glanced past her toward the front of the café. A minute later he had to ask, “Is it just me or do those women keep eyeing us?”

“The four about halfway to the front?” Harry asked without looking up from the menu. “From the moment we stepped through the door.”

Adam nudged him with his boot, causing him to look up. “You didn’t even look. You saw them from the start?” His eyebrow quirked up, sunglasses still perched atop his floppy black hair. A smile tugged at his lips. Alright, Harry was less paranoid and more aware then. “I thought Jack was exaggerating about your security experience.”

Harry shook his head, “If I didn’t have some experience Jack would never trust your welfare to me.”

“So?” Adam nudged him again. “What sort of experience?”

“Security,” Harry said.

“Boo,” Adam pouted. He was dying from curiosity of one of the many secrets of Harrison Grey. This is what their problem was, wasn’t it? Communicating new information? “Details, baby, I want details.”

“I know what you want,” Harry said. He fell silent as the waitress came back.

She cleared her throat and glanced between them. “Are you ready to order?”

“Five more minutes, please,” Adam said with a wink.

“Flirt,” Harry said before looking back up at him. “What would you—oh great, this will be interesting.”

Adam followed Harry’s gaze. “Oh.” The four girls were heading over. They came to a halt at the table.

“Uh, hello,” The first, a brunette spoke. The others followed with various hellos. “I’m Jeanie and this is, Becca, Clarissa, and Steph. You’re…”

Adam gave a small wave and smile, “Adam. And this is Harry.”

Jeanie bounced a little, “I know! Oh my god, it’s really you.”

“I told you he was still in New York!” Becca said happily at the back. “Could we get your autograph?”

“Yeah, of course! Ah,” Adam shifted and wiggled, hips slanting up as he patting his pockets. Harry cleared his throat and offered him a sharpie. Adam beamed at him, “Thanks, baby.”

Harry watched as one of the girls elbowed another in the side. “Did you see—”

“Yeah,” The other hissed back. She edged in closer. “Mind if I take a picture?” She angled it to get both Adam and Harry, the flash going off. “How long are you two here for?”

“Why _are_ you here?” The blonde, Clarissa asked.

Adam signed the last proffered item, a small keychain teddy bear. “I’m meeting with a producer about my upcoming album. We’re heading back to the tour later tonight.”

“What, no fun before you go back? Private room and all,” Jeanie said, grinning and looking between them.

“Completely inappropriate,” Harry said firmly and kicked Adam under the table as he laughed.

“Not that inappropriate,” Adam said, quickly burying his smile behind a drink of his iced tea.

“Yes, it is,” Harry said.

“So you’re not sleeping together?” Clarissa sounded put out. She took another picture.

“Nope,” Adam said before Harry got the chance. He didn’t know who to keep an eye on, the fans or Harry. Harry was producing some funny – okay, hysterical – faces. He suspected he wouldn’t appreciate Adam bursting into laughter.

“Why not?” Becca asked Harry.

“Okay, that might’ve been inappropriate,” Adam shook his head. He returned his full attention to the girls. “Not that I didn’t totally like the question.”

“Any fan questions that don’t involve my sex life?” Harry asked.

“Could we get a picture with?” Jeanie’s head tilted toward Adam.

“That I don’t mind in the slightest.” Harry said much to his surprise, and accepted the camera from Clarissa. He caught a gleam of amused satisfaction in the roadie’s eyes as he stood to pose with the girls. Didn’t Harry know any better? Adam loved posing with his fans. He winked at Harry and was forced to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Harry rolled his eyes. Adam stood with all four girls, bouncy and happy as they all posed for the camera.

He resettled into his seat with, “It was great meeting all of you.” Only they didn’t leave. He only peripherally caught Harry’s smirk as Adam blinked up at them. “Was there something else?”

“So, if the rumors about you two aren’t true,” Jeanie ventured, “I mean, is it true you have a crush on Kris?”

“He’s married,” Becca said. “To a girl.”

“They could still be sleeping together,” Clarissa said.

“We’re just friends,” Adam said, amazed the Kris rumors were still alive and thriving despite all evidence to the contrary. “Good friends, but,”

Harry interrupted him. “That does it. You don’t need to answer that, Adam. Really, if there aren’t any more questions, would you mind letting us eat?”

“It’s okay, Harry.” Adam’s hand rested on his thigh under the table, squeezing gently. “Ladies, really it was lovely to meet you, but—”

“Would you mind leaving us in peace?” Harry asked as politely as he could.

“Hey, there’s no reason to be rude,” Jeanie said with a frown.

“Rude?” Harry’s eyebrows moved up. “Adam signed your things and answered your questions. In my opinion it’s rather rude to come up to people when they’re trying to have lunch and barging in on them asking inappropriate questions.”

“Oh, they are so sleeping together,” Clarissa squeaked excitedly.

Harry’s frown deepened, and before Adam knew it he was snagging Adam’s wrist and pulled him up out of the chair, dropping a twenty on the table. “C’mon. We’re not sitting through this shit.”

“We just want to ask you two a few questions,” Clarissa said. She took another picture. “If you don’t mind.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Harry grumbled. He pulled Adam along the back toward the kitchen doors.

“We’re taking the escape route?” Adam asked, trying to smother his irritation.

“I don’t want them following us onto the street,” Harry said, tone brittle.

What the hell? Adam waved apologetically as they passed their waitress. “Hey, wait, you can’t go back there!” She called, an alarmed look on her face as they passed her coming out of the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Harry called over his shoulder, “Really have to.”

“Um, Harry,” Adam said to his back. “Where are we going?” He was following right at Harry’s back, close enough Harry could feel the taller man’s body heat, his wrist still clutched in Harry’s fingers. God, the man was near possessed, and _this_ take-command decision-making wasn’t so much fun.

“I don’t like paparazzi. And it’s my job to protect you from excessive fan ‘friendliness,’” Harry said. They continued their way through to the back of the kitchen, ignoring the startled looks and exclamations from the servers and cooks. At the back, right where he said it would be, was a doorway into the alley.

“They weren’t too bad,” Adam objected quietly.

“Don’t defend that sort of shitty behavior, Adam,” Harry said, a growl low in his throat.

“I don’t like it when you’re rude to my fans—” Adam’s frustration was growing.

Harry pushed the door open, pulling Adam outside with him. He breathed a heavy sigh as they hit the dank but brightly lit air. He twisted around to look at him. “Don’t you dare defend that invasion of space.”

“They were a little inappropriate, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you go tearing into them like they’re criminals or something,” Adam snapped. “Fuck, Harry, why—”

“How can you excuse them for treating you like you’re public property?” Harry demanded.

“I don’t, but I know I signed up for that too,” Adam said. “I get where they’re coming from, they just want to meet me.”

“I didn’t. And they don’t.” He stepped closer, shoving a finger at Adam’s chest. “They want to know about things you never signed up to share. You signed up to sing.”

Adam frowned and caught the hand. “You didn’t what?”

The briefest feeling of confusion flashed across Harry’s face before he seemed to catch up with the question. “I didn’t sign up for it.” He was watching Adam closely through the locks of hair that tumbled across his forehead. Adam was sure Harry caught the sudden spike of annoyance that crashed through him, because he tried tugging his hand free, stepping back from Adam only to bump into the dumpster a few feet off the café’s back exit.

Adam’s fingers tightened around Harry’s caught fist, refusing to let go. So Adam was pissed. He had a right to be. “Why do you have such a problem letting people see you? See who you are? Who cares if they judge you? That doesn’t matter!”

“Are you kidding?” Harry yanked this time, managing to get his hand free of Adam’s grip. “I don’t care about that.”

Adam snorted, “You don’t? Come on, that’s been your biggest hang-up with us since the start!”

“With us?”

“You and me.” Adam waved between them. “ _Us_. All the media attention, dealing with everyone’s judgments.”

“I don’t care about being judged,” Harry said tightly.

“Come on, Harry,” Adam said. He knew he should probably drop this, wait until they were both calmer, but fuck. He’d been waiting, and things never changed between them. Harry never elucidated his thoughts, his problems. More often than not it felt like he avoided Adam. He really, really hated that. He hated the idea that Harry didn’t want to be seen with him, judged by others for being with him. “You avoid it like the plague. You avoid _me_ when there’s even a chance we’ll be photographed together. It’s pretty fucking obvious you don’t want everyone judging you for who you are.”

Harry’s jaw clenched and his fists were curling and uncurling against his thighs. “For the last time. I. Do. Not. Care. About. Being. Judged.”

“Then what?” Adam demanded. “What is it? What is so fucking bad about being seen in public? With me? Being loving, Harry? Just loving.” He ran his fingers through his hair, dropping back against the alley wall suddenly as the energy drained out of him. “You could really make a guy feel shitty about himself, you know? Fuck.”

If his eyes hadn’t been slit open, watching Harry with exhausted frustration, he would have missed the flinch and the way Harry’s shoulders slumped, as if the energy escaped him as fast as it abandoned Adam.

Harry let out a slow, ragged breath. “I don’t mean that. Not ever, Adam. You’re, of course you’re brilliant. It’s not about being judged, or caring what anyone thinks. I don’t care what they think. I just don’t…”

Adam pushed himself off the alley wall, stepping up closer to Harry. He ghosted his fingers along Harry’s jaw. “Okay. Okay.” It was hard as hell to catch Harry’s eye when they were this close, what with the five or six inches he had on him, but this, this was too important. This, they were talking, and this was progress, and he felt like he was finally connecting. Harry’s head tilted up, the tips of Adam’s cool fingertips grazing his skin. He dipped a little lower, pressing his forehead to Harry’s. “If it’s not me—”

“It’s not.”

“—then what? Why does attention freak you out so much, baby?”

They were too close. Adam was staring into Harry’s eyes, and Harry was staring back, but they were too close, eyes dilating, their vision blurring together, a melding of blue and black and pale skin. Harry’s breath pressed hot, damp, quick puffs along his cheeks. Adam tried to mentally calm the jittery, adrenaline-shaken nerves they were both feeling.

“It’s not the judgments. It’s the attention,” Harry said finally, speaking softly. “It’s the way people force themselves in. As is they have the right to know.” He pulled away abruptly and began pacing the dark end of the alley they’d escaped into. “As if I am any of their business, as if I have no right to have privacy of my own. My life just belongs to them. It’s, I get tired of people looking at me for, for answers and for curiosity, like an experiment. Like,” He waved his arm widely through the air.

Adam caught it and caught Harry when he jumped and twisted around in surprise.

“I—”

“I get it.” Adam leaned in and kissed him, one hand still caught around Harry’s arm, the other finding its way along his jaw again. His fingers wound slowly into Harry’s hair, just at the base of his skull. “I get it,” he hummed again, because that seemed important to stress as he traced his lips lightly across Harry’s own before pressing deeper. He did get it, the way some people looked at him as though now that he was famous he was less than human, had fewer rights.

Harry didn’t hesitate. He pushed in closer, free arm curling around Adam’s back and holding tightly. His mouth slid open at the silent entreaty. Heat seared through Adam at the soft, happy moan that seemed to start at the base of Harry’s chest and poured out against his mouth.

When they pulled apart Adam wasn’t sure how much time elapsed, seconds or hours, but they were twined more fully around each other. Adam was tracing happy patterns under Harry’s shirt along his back, one leg pressed comfortably between Harry’s own, feeling the heat of Harry’s body radiating against his entire body through the thin t-shirt and jeans.

Harry clenched his fingers in Adam’s shirt, resting his forehead against his chest. “I am so bad for you.”

Adam smiled into the mop of messy black hair. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, huh?”

Harry groaned, “I just told you I hate fame and stuck my tongue down your throat. What exactly is good about that?”

Adam laughed. “One, I stuck my tongue down your throat. Two, it is none of their business. Think you could work with me on that one? Ignoring the assholes and the idly curious and the genuinely nice fans to just live our lives? Three, ah… Three… So, for now, one and two good enough?”

Harry chuckled against his chest. “Until I figure out how to argue with you, suppose so.”

Adam shook his head, “You’re more than capable of arguing with me. Even when you shouldn’t.” He was borderline pouting about that, but now wasn’t really the time for playing that out. He tightened his grip around Harry. “We’re good for each other. When are you going to work that one out, baby?”

He felt Harry smile and then felt the heavy, hot breath of a sigh. “You don’t know me, Adam.”

“I do,” Adam said immediately. The head shook in negation under his chin. “Yes, I do. You’re stubborn. You’re crazy loyal. Sometimes you’re just crazy. You don’t like lying. You have friends everywhere, you have family in Britain, but you don’t really like Britain. You love Eastern art. You’re obsessed with chai lattes. You like me even if you refuse to admit it. You have ninja skills or are at least persuasive enough to convince Jack you do. You’re more than a little paranoid. You don’t seem to get relationships are hard. Good, but sometimes hard. And you’re an amazing kisser.”

“Mer-god-Merlin. Fuck. Something.” Harry’s grip tightened around Adam’s back briefly before he let go. “We have to go. Get the bloody car, and you have a meeting, remember?”

“With my producer extraordinaire,” Adam nodded, but he held on to Harry. “We okay?”

Harry looked up into his eyes, startled, “Yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.”

“After our meeting, wanna hole up at the hotel?” Adam curled his fingers lightly along the base of Harry’s neck, playing with the hairs there.

Harry shook his head slightly, “You’re stubborn. We have to be at the airport early. International flight, remember? And we both need sleep.”

“I was thinking something along the lines of movie marathon. Whatever’s on TV,” Adam said. “But I like where your filthy mind was going much, much more.”

Harry swatted his arm half-heartedly. “God. Prat.”

“So it’s a date?”

“It’s a _plan_.”

Adam laughed.

\----------

The death threats weren’t particularly thrilling.

Alright, to be fair, most of them made him laugh. No one really knew how to make them anymore. You had to do it with a decent amount of obsession, a lot of sick, twisted evil, and a bit of class.

Jack didn’t see the humor in it. No one saw the humor in it aside from Harry. Last time it came up in front of Adam the rock star was officially Not Amused by the whole thing, particularly Harry’s unheeding reaction.

Some of the threats alarmed Harry, but not in a way that actually concerned him. He didn’t feel threatened. After tracking a half-human half-something-else that was bent on destroying his soul across four countries and nearly losing his life two dozen times in ten years… It just didn’t faze him.

How was he supposed to get upset about death letters—and a death postcard—clearly written by semi-illiterate girls ranging from thirteen to seventeen years old? A few were decent: correct spelling and grammar, full sentences, physically possible threats. A few genuinely surprised him. They were from the creeps who you needed to keep an eye on, but not truly worry about. Mostly he just wanted to buy these kids a dictionary each, and maybe some beginner readers.

Adam was pushing Jack to set up some security for him. Jack wasn’t really arguing the point. The main manager, Angela, was the one fighting it. Angela was Harry’s champion. If Harry got anything resembling security, he was leaving and that was that. Like he needed more attention drawn to him. Fans would start thinking he was somebody. As Allison would say, ‘do not want!’

He was going to bloody have to sit Adam down and explain this. Jack too, apparently, despite the obvious fact that Jack already thought Harry had security experience.

Merlin, he was going to have to sit them down and tell them one of his infamous stories. Maybe the one about being stalked by a freak of nature. That should calm them down. Maybe.

Really, how was he supposed to take death threats from teenagers seriously? He only wished they would stop so everyone would stop worrying, and so that the attention on him would die down. It didn’t help that the threats made Adam more attentive and clingy than ever. He didn’t know if Adam felt responsible or simply worried, but he was working it so he could drag Harry to every single affair. Jack wasn’t fighting the plot either. It was their little scheme to get around Angie’s security veto. Harry would have to talk to Angie too.

The one plus was Jack’s observation and interference. Adam was making vast efforts to keep Harry by his side, but Jack knew as well as Harry that it would only draw more attention. So even though Harry was tagging along on more outings than he really wanted to, Jack was making sure he kept between the two of them so no one could snap another intimate shot of them positively wrapped around one other.

It was a relief from the media. To be honest it was also a relief from Adam, who Harry was still confused about and a little upset with. Possibly in a denial about just a tiny little bit. He was ready to go off at the idiot again for sneaking around behind his back looking for information. Only he knew if he did, the whole club incident would come up again. So far Adam had been nice enough not to bring it up much. Just the once, during the alley scene. Harry had to admit to himself Adam was remarkably restrained and thoughtful, considering his professed interest. In his shoes, Harry was sure he would have gone off by now. But if Harry went stirring the pot he was sure it would all come tumbling out in the open.

There was one other tiny little problem about confronting Adam. Sneaking around was about the only road Harry left open for anyone to figure him out. He wasn’t exactly an open book, and he knew it. It mellowed his anger, a little. The guilt of that simple fact ate at him, because hell. Adam—all of the crew were good people. Harry was lying to their faces every day to protect himself. He couldn’t handle getting into his insane past with anyone, let alone muggles who didn’t know anything about it. It didn’t stop him from being a liar. A liar with a guilt complex the size of the UK… And an intense desire to forget all about it.

If it all came out, Harry didn’t know what he would do. Keeping Adam safe, making sure he didn’t get embroiled in Harry’s tumultuous life, was paramount. If push came to shove, Harry didn’t know if he could stay. He didn’t want to do that to Adam.

A week and a half in and hell yes, the death threats were less than thrilling.

\----------


	3. Chapter 3

Angela sighed as Harry stepped into her make-shift office. “I know, Harry, the threats aren’t lightening up. Jack’s keeping me apprised. But I really can’t afford to get a bodyguard for you. To perfectly frank, all the attention is tearing the PR department into an intense division of either firing you or using you as a promotional piece for Adam. I’m sure you realize a bodyguard will only draw more attention and things won’t die down any faster. I want to keep you around, so I’m trying to end this as quickly as possible. However if you feel unsafe, maybe we need to consider less appealing options.”

“Angie, I just walked through the door.” In fact, Harry barely had the door closed by the time she finished her first sentence. “Care to find out why I’m here before you continue?”

Angie looked taken aback then smiled slightly. “Of course, I’m sorry, Harry. Go ahead.” She dropped her pen on top of the pile of paperwork she was working through and brushed her fingers through her curly brown hair.

Harry nodded, sat, took a deep breath and steeled himself. “This will be brief, unless you want any clarification. I’m going to talk to Jack and Adam about this later tonight, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

At Angie’s nod, Harry went on. “If this progresses any further—and by ‘this’ I mean any form of security or plan that involves some absurd protective measure for my benefit—I will quit faster than you can say ‘excessive.’” He stared at her with his deadly serious expression, one he’d perfected over the years of having people do stupid things in some effort to aid him.

Angie stared back, a completely stunned expression on her face. Slowly it leveled out into a calm blankness. “Okay, Harry. I’m in perfect agreement, as you may have surmised.”

“Yeah, I worked that one out,” he smiled slightly. “If you don’t have any questions..? I want to finish my work before the Idols get back from their latest set of interviews.”

“Only one. What are your reasons for not wanting a little help?” She held up a hand as Harry made a surprised, argumentative noise. “No, I am in agreement with you. It’s only that stalkers usually upset and disturb people. You have been walking around like there isn’t a problem under the sun, and now you’re threatening to quit if we try to hire help. I expected you to threaten quitting if we didn’t hire someone; and to be quite frank, Harry, I would have let you.” She shrugged and offered an apologetic half-smile.

“The delicacies of running a tour. I get that, Angie. To be frank myself, I’ve considered quitting just to get the problem out of everyone’s hair. It would be the simplest.” Harry glanced out the window, running a hand through his hair distractedly, accidentally bumping his glasses, missing his contact lenses again. “But I like it here, and I don’t want to leave yet. It’s been awhile since I felt fitted into something, a part of the community.”

Angie hummed in agreement. He knew she understood perfectly something he was still discovering; tours were large families. You got pulled in, accepted, and made a part of the group for the rest of eternity, and that was that.

“As for stalking… It’s hard to explain. I’ve been through a few things. A handful of jealous girls don’t bother me. Why should they? They’re kids with crushes. If that’s it, Angie?”

Angela nodded and Harry left. Now to tackle Adam and Jack. After he picked up the dinner for the crew.

\----------

Jacked eyed him with speculative suspicion. Adam simply sat waiting patiently. Harry wondered if Adam was used to his secretive, reluctant mannerisms.

He pushed the thought from his mind and stared back at them from across the tiny space between the beds. They were currently in a hotel in Hartford, where they were playing one venue then taking a day off. It was Kris’ and Adam’s room, but Kris was sleeping on the floor above with his wife, who’d visited to see her husband and New York a few days ago and decided to stay on awhile longer. Harry was thankful for the small amount of privacy. He insisted Adam and Jack sit on one bed while he settled himself cross-legged on the other, facing them.

“I know it’s late, but this is a conversation we need to have. Neither of you are going to like this.” Might as well warn them now. “But try not to interrupt, because this could be lengthy and you’re going to hear it all no matter how long or short it takes.” The ‘I don’t care if I have to keep you up all night’ was silent, but perfectly understood.

“It’s two in the morning, baby,” Adam said, a tired grin tugging at his mouth. “Spill it now and spill it quick, because even I’m exhausted.” Jack hit him up the back of his head. Adam gave him the finger.

“I want you both to stop clucking over me like paranoid mother hens,” Harry said flatly when their attention returned to him. “I don’t want or need a bodyguard, security, or constant supervision. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, not that there is anything I need to protect myself from. It’s a bunch of foolish girls who talk trash and then turn around and whinge about breaking a nail.” He stared at each of them in turn.

A stubborn look pasted itself across Jack’s face. The look that said quite simply, ‘I may not be interrupting, but I disagree, and since I have the experience, you are wrong and I will take you down later.’

Adam sat up straight, the sleepiness vanishing from his face. He clearly wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I’m deadly serious, both of you,” Harry said sternly. He looked between them once more. “If you persist in this, I will quit.”

“Excuse me?” Adam blurted out.

Harry stared at him. “I mean it, Adam. I. Will. Quit. I’ve already talked to Angie about this. She’s on my side, just so you both know. If you keep going on about this, I’ll quit, which is all well and fine, because if everyone keeps yammering about a _roadie_ needing a _bodyguard_ Angie will up and fire me anyway. _As she bloody well should_. I’m a grown man and perfectly capable of looking after myself. Got it?”

There was a long, drawn out silence.

Adam finally said, “Can we speak now? Or are you building up a tense, dramatic moment to continue?” Jack snorted.

Harry shrugged, ignoring the thick sarcasm, “Go ahead.”

“That’s fucking insane and I’m not going to let your ass get stalked or raped or murdered or whatever because you’re an arrogant idiot who won’t accept a little help.” Adam crossed his arms over his chest. “Got it?”

Jack didn’t say anything, simply settled back on the bed a little more. He was watching Harry for a reaction.

Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Adam. “I told you, I can take care of myself.”

“You never needed help with anything in your life, ever?” Adam scoffed.

“I certainly never needed a fucking bodyguard to do the same thing I am capable of doing; mainly, protecting myself. Hell, why am I on security half the time if you think I’m some idiot unable to do anything useful in a dangerous situation?”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Jack jumped in. “We’re concerned, Harry. One man cannot be alert all the time. No matter whether the threats are serious or not, we need to treat them as such to ensure your safety.”

“Thank-you!” Adam snapped out, arm waving gratefully in Jack’s direction. “Exactly what he said.”

Sometimes Harry hated Jack’s cool logic. “Look, here’s how it’s going to go,” Harry said, determined. “No more bodyguard requests. No more insisting I accompany every single event in some effort to watch out for me. You want to stop the problem, stop spending time with me.” He stared straight at Adam, ignoring Jack completely and missing the slight wince. “I know we’re mates, and I know you don’t want the world to get in the way of that, but it is getting in the way, and if you think you have to ‘keep me safe,’ the easiest way to do that is pretend we have no interest in each other whatsoever.”

The icy expression that settled on Adam’s face could have frozen the sun. “No.”

“Alright, that’s fine,” Harry said. He hadn’t really expected that suggestion to come to anything, though the cold look in Adam’s eyes unnerved him a bit. “But no more of this paranoid shit about my welfare. It can’t go on that way. I will quit, and as much as the idea annoys you, neither of you can stop me from doing it.”

“Harry—”

“And I’ve been stalked before,” Harry cut Adam off. It seemed the quickest wait to finish up the argument. That effectively ended Adam’s reproach. Jack cleared his throat pointedly.

Harry shrugged slightly, looking away from them, because this was something he hated talking about, no matter how much he pretended it didn’t bother him. He picked at the comforter absently. “I was, when I was growing up, when I was a kid. It’s complicated, really complicated, and I’m not going into it all. This man, a truly psychotic bastard, was obsessed with me. It was bad for a long time, but I learned to deal with it all. I also learned how to look after myself.”

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when the bed dipped. Adam shifted up next to him, his thigh pressing into Harry’s and fingers sliding down Harry’s arm to tangle with the ones picking at the blanket. “Dammit, Harry, do you ever think talking about it might be a good idea?” His voice conveyed a mixture of empathy and exasperation.

Harry squeezed Adam’s hand slightly, looking up at him. “Talking about it is not something I’ve ever been encouraged to do. So you get why star-struck girls don’t bother me? They just don’t and I really need you to ease up on this for awhile.”

Adam still looked like he wanted to argue. Jack cleared his throat again.

“We get the point, and we will lay off for now, unless things get worse.” He gave Adam a look that said there wouldn’t be an argument about this. Harry smiled slightly, relieved and amused and grateful all rolled into one. “But we’re going to talk about this more. Later, at a decent hour. For now, you’re both getting your asses in bed.”

“Oh, right. The show is tomorrow. And it’s—fuck, three already?” Harry stood. Adam tugged him right back down.

“And neither of us will stop looking out for you, no matter how much you fight it. You’re staying here tonight,” Adam said.

Harry scowled, “We just went over this.”

“No one’s going to know,” Jack pointed out. “And I agree. You’re sleeping on the bus, correct? You’re not hauling yourself through the parking lot at this hour.”

At Harry’s expression Jack shrugged, “You have to give us something, kiddo.”

Harry ignored the ‘kiddo’ comment. “And where do you plan to sleep then? I already know you were going to use the extra bed in here since Kris is out.”

“I think we’re small enough to fit on one bed, Harry,” Adam said. The cheerful bounce Harry was sure Adam would become famous for returned to his voice. “You can borrow my pajamas.”

“You sleep naked,” Harry said. He did not want to think about how he knew that. It was one of those embarrassing memories he preferred to forget.

Adam was smirking. “So you know my pjs are clean?”

Jack rolled his eyes, “God help me.” He vanished into the bathroom.

Harry let go of Adam’s hand, pulling up from the bed and out of Adam’s grip. “As surprising as I know you’ll find it, I’m not eager to sleep with you, love.” In fact, I’m still pretty pissed at you, he added silently. Only the bodyguard-death threats problem needed to be taken care of. He still didn’t know how to broach the spying problem anyway. Avoiding the topic altogether seemed like the best approach.

“You’ll succumb to my irresistible allure eventually,” Adam said lazily. The ‘again’ was tactfully not added on. “So you don’t mind if I sleep nude?”

“Nope,” Harry said before he really thought about it. He turned to find Adam grinning triumphantly at him. That wicked smirk should be illegal. “That is not what I meant.” He stared down at Adam. “It isn’t. I’m just used to men being men. I _am_ one, after all, and dormed up with a bunch for years.”

“You’ve platonically slept with naked guys?” Adam shook his head. “Well, shit. You might be harder to crack than I thought.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “You’re absurd, Adam. It’s no wonder the paparazzi is going mad on us, reading too much into everything.”

Adam stared at him, “Did you seriously just say that?”

Harry gave him a confused look, “What?”

“Fucking hell. How can you be so...” Adam buried his face in his hands. “Just get in bed, sexy.”

Harry shot him an annoyed, completely confused expression. “Fine.” After Adam pointed out the pajamas—just a pair of lounge pants—he changed quickly, turning to find Adam watching him with wide, interested eyes. He climbed into bed, yanking at the pant legs to keep from tripping on them. Adam was what felt like three feet taller than he was. He rolled himself comfortably in a blanket, and ignored Adam, muttering softly, “Bloody berk.”

Adam nudged him, “So fucking heard that.”

“Good.” He buried his face in his pillow and only peripherally heard Jack exit the bathroom and Adam go in. Five minutes later Adam came out and climbed into bed, turning the light off as he went. An arm slid comfortably around his side, and a bare chest pressed into his back. He wasn’t kidding about sleeping naked. Harry was surprised Adam didn’t twine around him any more than that. The man was a cat, bent on getting attention and seeking out heat sources. He grinned into the pillow at the image.

It was starting to drive him insane, always torn between falling in love with the idiot and being constantly frustrated by him. He almost wished Hermione was there, if only to drive some sanity back into his life. If there had ever been any in the first place. Hermione always brought things back down to earth.

Harry fell asleep cocooned in warmth and buried in memories. He only peripherally heard Adam whisper into his hair,

“We’re not just friends, Harry.”

\----------

“Hello.” A voice spoke from behind Harry as he shoved another bag into the storage under the bus.

Harry pivoted on the balls of his feet, still crouching low. He stared up at the short, wiry man, thankful he’d remembered to grab his sunglasses off the bus today. The sun was blinding and the bloke was framed by the bright light. He eyed the guest pass hanging around his neck and then the wide, sincere brown eyes. “Can I help you..?”

“Brad,” he offered a hand. Harry stared at it. “Brad Bell?” He hesitated at as Harry continued to stare blankly. “Cheeks, social media artist extraordinaire?”

Realization finally dawned. “Oh! Adam’s ex.” Harry stood and rubbed his hands against his jeans before accepting the still extended hand. “Harry Grey. I, uh, don’t know where Adam is right now. He should be in the amphitheatre, actually. If you want, Mark should be able—”

“I came out to chat with you,” Cheeks, or Brad, said brightly. “Harry Grey, the guy who’s been getting nailed in the tabloids lately. Trust me, I know how you feel. About the tabloids. …and getting nailed, come to think of it.”

Oh, Merlin help him. Harry wanted to turn around and go straight back to work, but he’d learned early on that ignoring Adam or his friends didn’t tend to work. He straightened his grey shirt reflexively, glad again for his sunglasses so he could look Brad over surreptitiously. “Alright. But I don’t think you do.”

“They nailed me harder than you,” Brad said with a sweet smile curling into a smirk at the corners. He popped down next to Harry, settling into a meditation position. “The pictures, the gossip. Not that I mind. Normally I’m all for getting nailed, in a different sense.”

“Oh, god.” Harry couldn’t stop from staring at him in horror. He was sure his alarm was visible, eyewear or no, because it just kept getting worse and a certain realization was sinking in. “You’re just like him.”

“Pardon?” Brad asked.

Harry determinedly turned back to shoving bags onto the bus. “You’re just like Adam.”

“I’ll try to not be too insulted by that,” Brad said.

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Harry shot him a sideways glance, genuinely surprised. Still more than a little disturbed. They really were alike. There was that same casual, playful glint in Brad’s eyes, and the same easy grace with turning meaning upside down.

Brad waved a hand dismissively. “Adam’s darling. I dated him for two years, that should say something. But really? Just like him? No.” He settled his hands on his knees, pressing thumb and forefinger together, a full-blown smirk edging along his mouth. “If anything, he’s just like me. I taught him how to sparkle, honey.”

“Sparkle,” Harry said flatly. He braced himself for something. He didn’t know what, but something was definitely going to happen. The tingle along his spine never lied, and right at this moment he was having a hell of a time not shivering from the force of it.

Brad studied Harry. “Sparkle. Be healthy, bright, positive, amazing. With that little extra glow about you.”

“Right.” Harry slowly went back to work a second time, picking up a large black duffle bag and pushing it in. “I suppose you’re here to rescue Adam then?”

“Rescue Adam?” Brad sounded confused once more. “Are you always this…”

“Get him back,” Harry clarified, ignoring the last bit. “You’re here to date Adam. He’s always talking about you.”

“…confusing.” Brad’s mystified expression turned into laughter. “Date? Adam? No! No, no, _no_. We’re not going down _that_ road again. You’re as funny as Adam said you were. I should have known. He’s always been a good judge of character.” He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “He’s always been a good judge of a lot of things.”

Harry closed his eyes and prayed for patience, “You two are bloody _twins_. Either get a blood test or a marriage license, honestly.”

Brad gave him another quirky smile. “You don’t make chatting easy, do you?”

“Neither do you. And I’m working,” Harry tried, motioning vaguely in the direction Brad would find Adam. He barely remembered to push one of the last few bags into the compartment.

“Right, that’s the problem.” Brad’s eyebrow was raised, and his tone promised hell in a way that reminded Harry of Hermione. Now there was a terrifying thought, a hybrid of Hermione and Adam. “Now that you’re all finished here, I say we go get a drink.”

“I’m working—”

“Miss Angela Lemming has already let you off. I think Adam’s little Allicat was quite certain it was important.” Brad stood gracefully and offered a hand to Harry. “Not to mention my convincing speech on the wonders of tabloid support groups.”

Harry accepted the hand reluctantly. He didn’t particularly care to alienate one of Adam’s favorite people, favorite enough to mention the bloke every other day despite dating and breaking it off. He suspected telling Brad to bugger off might constitute as offensive. “No bars.” There had to be limits, right?

Brad barely pouted. “Then there’s a nice café I noticed down the street. They have a juice bar. I could really go for green tea. Or maybe a smoothie.”

It was a quick walk to the little shop. Brad walked a brisk pace and steered them out of the amphitheatre lot quickly. Harry kept an eye out for someone, anyone, he could catch to bring along with them. It felt a bit of a conspiracy when he couldn’t find a single person. And suddenly he was sitting across from Adam’s ex at an uncomfortable little table with straight-backed metal chairs. He fiddled with his espresso nervously.

“Here’s the down low, sugar.” Brad set his plate of biscotti between them, not so subtly pushing it toward Harry. “First of all, you need to eat more. I’m all for slim, but you’re pushing the envelope.”

“I—”

“I’m positive if we took your shirt off I could count ribs and single vertebrae,” Brad said. “Body fat is our friend.”

“I’m not unhealthy,” Harry snapped. He pushed the plate back toward Brad. “Just slight. I eat plenty and I’m not hungry.”

Brad arched an eyebrow. Harry wasn’t sure if it was speaking disapproval or disbelief, but whatever it was, he knew it was not a good thing. He felt like he was taking a test and failing. Badly. He tried to quell his nerves. Why should he fucking care if he impresses Adam’s ex or not?

“No, sugar, I’m slight. You’re bordering dead. But never mind that, here’s the second thing,” Brad said. The eyebrow had lowered to its normal position and he took a long drink off his smoothie. It was called the Evil Genius, and Harry wondered if that was an omen. The glass clinked down onto the table gently. “He’s not going to wait forever.”

The nerves deflated into pure confusion in one swift second. If that was supposed to be sage advice or even remotely comprehensible, it failed spectacularly. “Ah, who?” He was half tempted to look around. Harry had the feeling Brad got distracted easily and was probably talking about someone behind him.

“Adam. His patience isn’t endless, and bless him, he’s willing to accept almost anything, but really that won’t last forever,” Brad elaborated. The ‘and it shouldn’t, in my not-remotely-humble opinion’ sat hovering in the air. Brad was staring unblinkingly and unnervingly at him.

Harry’s brow drew down as his confusion deepened. He was definitely failing this test, probably because he had no bloody clue what it was about. “What is Adam waiting for?”

Brad’s mouth dropped open for two seconds. Then he blinked furiously. “Pardon?”

Harry sighed. “What is Adam waiting for?”

Brad frowned. He eyed Harry thoughtfully across the table, eyes narrowing. He bit his lip. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

Harry wanted to bang his head against the table. Or maybe Brad’s head. “Why should Adam be waiting for anything? What is it? I don’t see why you’re talking to me about this. And I don’t see what his patience has to do with me either.”

Brad blinked again. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Oh my god.” He leaned back. “Adam wasn’t kidding.”

Harry huffed, “ _What_?”

“Adam,” Brad said, “won’t wait forever _for you_.”

“What?” Harry’s confused frown might as well have been pasted across his face for this entire conversation. That is, if it hadn’t been. “What the hell is he waiting for me for anyway?”

“To date!” Brad said.

“I don’t want to date!” Harry felt slightly horrified, and he was quite sure he looked it. He only belatedly remembered to add on, “Adam.” How many people were going to come in one this idea anyway?

Brad shook his head, “Oh, honey, of course you do.”

“No, I don’t!” Harry insisted.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” And Brad looked completely unconvinced.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s confusion was vanishing quickly into anger. Okay, he didn’t want to piss off Adam’s ex, or best friend, but this was insane. He did not appreciate this tosser’s uninformed opinions.

“Adam’s pretty much kept up a live timeline of events with me,” Brad shrugged. “You’re definitely interested, sweetie. To be quite frank, I’m tired of Adam bitching about it, so I thought I’d drop in to point out the obvious. I thought he’d been exaggerating, but oh my god.”

“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Harry grumbled. He’d give quite a lot to know exactly what Adam had been saying to Cheeks about him.

“Is it the tabloids?” Brad asked. He picked up a broken piece of biscotti, took a bite, his eyes focused on Harry the entire time. “Adam’s mentioned that a few times, that it bothers you.”

His mouth twisted in a frown. “Yeah, I hate the tabloids. Who doesn’t again?”

Brad shook his head, “I’ve lived in LA for, well, years. Capital of celebrity versus camera. Trust me, you’ve got to live your life whether the camera’s trained on you or not. You got to get over yourself, in other words.”

“My personal feelings about idiots with a camera and too much time on their hands is none of your bloody business, Brad,” Harry said flatly. He remembered the small cup of espresso in front of him, picked it up, and tossed it back, ignoring the hot, bitter sensation as it slid down his throat.

Brad’s eyes dropped to the tiny porcelain cup. “I have an idea, maybe you’re over-caffeinated.” The cup clattered down on the saucer as Harry glared at him. “It would explain the nerves and irritability,” he continued on, blasé.

“It’s neither the tabloids nor the caffeine,” Harry said, trying to suppress his irritation in the face of Brad’s wicked grin. Definitely some horrible combination of Hermione and Adam. Or perhaps a pixie. Pixies were right buggers.

“Mmm, according to Adam, the media attention’s a big part of your problem,” Brad said.

Harry sighed, “Adam told you that?”

“Of course. I told you, he’s been keeping me up-to-date on his life.”

“I doubt he’s told you every single detail,” Harry objected.

“Nope. Everything,” Brad’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Everything? Come off it,” Harry said. “He wouldn’t.”

“We’ve been BFFs, well, forever,” Brad said. “The whole shebang.”

“I don’t buy it,” Harry said with an edge to his voice. Adam wouldn’t if only because he knew Harry was obsessive about his privacy.

“Yep. Even the way you climbed all over him at that club. What was it… Oh, yes,” he beamed, “the Apex?”

Harry felt his face heating up. Okay, Adam might have. Harry was going to murder him when he got out of this bloody awful situation. “Alright, I have… Some issues with the media. They’re obnoxious. It isn’t a crime to want to avoid them.”

“At the expensive of living your life?” Brad waved off the idea. “Never mind, you did say it wasn’t the media. What, are you not interested in him?” He said it with the tone of one who wouldn’t buy it if Harry said no.

“What if that was it?” Harry asked, half a challenge. He couldn’t really refute his interest, but he could damn well hedge out of the question.

Brad laughed, “Sugar, from everything I’ve heard, you couldn’t pull off that load of crap with a two-year-old. You’ve made out with him, flirted, done everything short of an actual, full-on date, even put up with the fans and media. Yeah, PR put out a statement, but you could’ve slapped them down every time you ran into one and you didn’t. If anything, you and Adam are seen together even more.”

“We’re not,” Harry said. “It’s the same old, and you can verify that little fact with Adam. Just people are _looking_ now.” That was true. Harry even tried avoiding Adam to little affect. Their work simply tended to cross paths, especially since he began working with Jack.

Brad nodded in understanding. “The fact of the matter is, if you’re not interested in Adam, you sure as hell have led him on. But I think you are interested. You just need to get your shit together.”

“What do you mean, ‘get my shit together?’” Harry asked, an edge to his voice. The suggestion that he would lead Adam on made him mad. He would never..! And fuck it, he really didn’t care for Brad.

Brad shook his head, “Sugar, you’re cute and all with your denial issues and alarming penchant for missing the obvious, but you’re going to have to listen closely to me here, because this one is important.” He waited to see that Harry was paying attention. Harry was. He may not like Brad, but he would still hear him out, especially since he sounded so serious. “You are not the only one in this.”

Harry’s eyes slid closed in pure frustration. It would be nice if Brad made sense, just once in this conversation. “What?”

Brad was staring at him intently. He visibly deflated, shoulders slumping. “Damn. Okay. Let’s try this again. You know the expression, it takes two to tango?”

“Ye-ah?” Harry said.

“You,” Brad waved at him, “Are not the only one in the relationship.”

Harry sighed, “We’re not in a relationsh—”

“Why don’t we just hold off on _labeling_ the relationship for now,” Brad interrupted with an exasperated huff. “The important thing here is not the type of relationship that you two have, only that you have one—”

“We _don’t_ —”

“ _Even if that relationship is a friendship_.” Brad eyed him. When Harry’s mouth closed from the forming objection and he leaned back in his seat reluctantly, Brad continued, “Okay. We agree you two have an as of yet undefined relationship then?”

Harry nodded. Something told him he was really going to hate where this was going. Probably because Brad was going to be right. Like Hermione.

“Good,” Brad relaxed back and commenced with staring at Harry again. “It takes two to form a relationship. You have to get over this idea you seem to have that you’re the only one in this particular relationship. FYI, Adam’s in it too.”

This was exactly why he didn’t want to date Adam. Because he was fucking awful with anyone who got too close. “Do I treat him that way?” He asked Brad seriously. He didn’t want that, and shit, if Adam was confiding everything to Brad, then it had to mean Adam felt that way, didn’t it?

Brad looked completely taken aback at Harry’s question. He hesitated a second before he said, “I think you should know, Adam’s got his own issues. You’re not the only one, and you should stop treating things like you are. Relationships are two-way streets.”

Harry felt like he’d been slapped. “Right.” He picked at a piece of biscotti, staring at it. “Right.” Merlin, what was he supposed to do now? The little fight or flight voice was going off in his head, telling him to leave before he really hurt Adam, if he hadn’t already.

A foot nudged his shin under the table. Harry looked up at Brad, startled. “You’re making me feel like a monster here, honey. You’ve got kicked puppy written all over your face.”

Harry snorted, “Hardly a monster for being a good friend.” Harry had to respect him for that. He’d thought Brad was playing annoying villain and now it felt upside down. Was Harry the villain here?

“I’m only saying, if you keep going like this, you’re going to lose him,” Brad said. He nudged the plate of biscotti closer again. “At the rate you’re going, I’m not sure you don’t deserve it, but he sees something in you so I assume something’s there.”

“I’m not so sure,” Harry said. A sigh escaped his lips and he found his attention wandering to the busy street beyond the window. “It’s a lot more complicated than…suddenly letting things happen.”

Brad was silent for a minute. Then, “Why don’t you just do that?”

“Do what?” Harry glanced back at him.

“Let things happen. Stop trying to control things.” Brad held up a hand before Harry could even think about objecting. “I don’t know why you’re trying to control things like some anal British school marm, maybe they’re good reasons, but maybe you should just sit back, relax, and let life lead you where it may.”

“You say that like its easy,” Harry said. He felt a flare of grudging admiration.

“It takes practice,” Brad said. “Life isn’t always easy. Everyone knows that. But you can’t let whatever control issues and fear you have ruin the glorious parts.”

“Glorious?” Harry smiled.

“Oh, trust me, honey,” Brad returned the smile with a wink and grin of his own, “Whatever time you spend with Adam, it’ll be glorious. After all, he’s a lot like me.”

\----------

Adam looked up from his focus on the laptop resting on his knees as someone came bursting through the hotel door. He was surprised to see Harry in what had to be his favorite pair of jeans and simple grey shirt hiding under… He grinned, one of Adam’s own button-ups.

“Look,” Harry started.

“That’s my shirt.” He bit his lip, smiling despite it. “Not that I mind. You look sexy enough to eat in it, but, what the hell? Where’d you even find it?” Then he couldn’t stop his laugh, “Going through my bags, baby?”

Harry stared down at the blue and red plaid button-up in surprise. “Oh. Honestly, I thought this was Kris’s? I wondered why it was so bloody large.”

Adam sat up, dropping his feet from the coffee table and setting the laptop down. “Despite suggested evidence, Kris does not own all the plaid in the known universe. I own a few of the patterned articles. …wait, you’ll steal Kris’ clothes and not mine? Double standard much!” He tried staring Harry down, which would have worked a lot better if Harry had even been looking at him. He was still fiddling with the shirt.

“It was left behind in the theatre of one of the last few sound checks. You know how shit wanders around the stops.” He sighed and looked around. “Brad isn’t here, is he?”

Adam stuffed the loose papers crammed along the side of the chair into his notebook before dropping it next to the computer. “Yeah, no, he’s gone back to his hotel before the show tonight. When did you two meet? He’s only been around since this morning. A pit stop before he meets up with friends in New York.”

Harry nodded his head, “Yeah, nice bloke. A little too, er, insane.”

Adam laughed, “He can be intense. You’ll love him when you spend more time around him. C’mon, sit down, baby. I’m guessing you’re here for more than Cheeks.” He squeezed himself to one side of the overlarge chair and patted the spot next to him.

Harry eyed him with amusement. “There’s an entire couch right next to you. Plenty of space, love.”

Adam shook his head, “I like to share. Get your ass over here.”

Harry went the long way around the coffee table and settled onto the couch.

“Bitch,” he flicked his pen at Harry, chuckling when Harry sent it flying back.

Harry nodded at the laptop, “What are you working on now?”

“Just sorting through songs. Writing some, looking over what management sent me. Things are happening so damn fast.” Adam studied him, inspecting every inch of his – yes, Harry was so _his_ – roadie, and noticing the worry etched around the corners of his eyes. Adam missed Harry’s glasses; he must have found his contacts again. “Forget my stuff. You look like one of the busses ran you over.”

Harry took a deep breath, “I had a chat with Brad.”

Adam’s slow smile froze in place. “Ah. That’s…” A little terrifying. Oh shit.

“I think we need to have another talk.” Harry edged along the couch until his knee bumped Adam’s.

“Shit.” And that was about all Adam could think to say on the subject. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Cheeks had said to Harry. Only he really, really did. He was going to throttle him, because Harry looked seriously skittish here, and what if Adam couldn’t pull him back from pulling away?

“Look,” Harry began, swallowing hard. He met Adam’s eyes squarely, one of those little qualities he fucking loved about him. Eye-contact, it seemed so unimportant, but it really wasn’t. It was a connection, an awareness both people were communicating. “I… You’re normal. I’m not. I’m really not normal, Adam. Normal and not normal, those sorts of relationships just don’t work out.”

Adam’s smile unlocked. He relaxed a little. He could definitely fix this. He was pretty sure. Almost positive. “I would have said it’s the other way around.”

Harry snorted, “Trust me, it’s not.”

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “I’m the celebrity, Harry. You’re supposed to be the normal guy in this, remember?”

Harry actually laughed past the nerves still painted across his face. Definitely a step in the right direction, Adam thought. “Right, well, you know how to pick them, don’t you? Because in this one, you’re definitely the normal one.”

“Care to elaborate on—”

“Not really,” Harry interrupted. He seemed intent on staring Adam down. “Cheeks said… Never mind. If anything happened between us. Adam, you’ll end up getting hurt. _I’ll_ end up hurting you, it’s what happens. And I don’t want that to happen. I really bloody don’t. You’re a good bloke.”

Adam was trying really hard not to smirk, if only because the situation really did not call for smirking. But Harry was so ridiculously adorable with the whole reverse compliment habit of his, and every time he did it all Adam could think about was Harry just admitted liking him. A lot.

“Why are you bloody grinning?” Harry snapped. He jabbed Adam’s knee. “Are you listening to me at all?”

“Yep, all ears, baby. And I think that’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me,” Adam said cheerfully. At Harry’s pissed expression he sobered up, “I do get it. I just don’t care. You said yourself, I’m a good man. Stress on the word ‘man’ there. I’m an adult, Harry. I can handle myself.”

“A little too well,” Harry said dryly.

Adam burst out laughing.

“Still doesn’t mean this is what I want,” Harry said.

“Only because you’re scared of whatever you’re steadfastly not saying,” Adam said. He smiled at Harry lazily, eyes narrowing and promising a whole hell of a lot of things he knew Harry would ignore.

“And how are you so sure of yourself?” Harry tugged the plaid shirt around his middle, absently fiddling with one of the buttons.

Adam watched for a second before meeting his eyes again. He shook his head, “The way you act, of course, baby.”

The completely confused look he sported was kind of adorable too, though vastly more frustrating. “What do I _do_?”

Adam knew that question was coming. He was already thinking up answers. “You watch each of my performances. Every night. Every show.”

Harry arched an eyebrow, “You’re a brilliant performer. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

Adam rolled his eyes, “And that means you want to catch every performance. Alli’s good too, but you’re not showing up for her set. You could avoid me too, especially after all this tabloid shit, but you don’t.”

“You’re a friend,” Harry objected immediately.

“We fight all the time,” Adam added.

“Friends fight,” Harry said.

“And we don’t stay pissed at each other. You watch me all the time.” Harry blushed this time, making Adam grin. “And get flustered when I flirt with you. Like I get under your skin.” He leaned forward, propping elbow on knee and chin in hand. “I like the way you talk to me, just sort of react, like you’re not thinking about what you say before you say it.”

Harry looked startled. “I don’t think about it. Why in the world should I? But hell, Adam, that doesn’t mean—”

Adam didn’t hesitate a second before he added on, “ _coup de foudre_.”

Harry stopped talking. He stared at Adam, swallowed. “Um. What?”

“ _Coup de foudre_ ,” Adam repeated. His nose scrunched, “That’s right, right? The pronunciation’s a bitch.”

Harry blinked rapidly, “Struck by lightning?” He sat back against the couch, chewing is bottom lip.

Adam blinked back, “I thought it was love at first sight?” Well, screw that website. It was the first time google ever failed him. Harry looked like he was considering bolting, and damn, Adam was hoping that line would go over so much better than it had.

Harry’s mouth twitched. “It means both. Literally, to be struck by lightning, figuratively, love at first sight.”

“Huh,” Adam hummed. One for google after all. Harry was smiling again and relaxing a little more. “Lightning strike, it suits you. Us.” He believed in love at first sight, feeling that connection with someone instantaneously, feeling that _zing._

Except Harry was looking a little freaked out again. “You’re _in love_ with me?”

“Love might be a little strong,” Adam amended. Okay, google one, Adam zero, just possibly. “Attraction at first site? Magnetic pull? There’s something between us? That zing?”

“Zing,” Harry said and then nothing. He was watching Adam, expression blank, more puzzled than anything.

“Oh my god, what did Brad say to have you looking at me like I’m a bomb about to go off?” Adam asked finally. He was sure under any other circumstances they would both be laughing and having rambling conversations about French and idioms right about now.

Harry huffed, “That’s not really important—”

“It must be to drive you all the way to my room just so you could tell me we’re a bad fit and stare at me like I’m about to jump you with a pair of handcuffs.” That last wasn’t really a bad idea. At least then he could be sure to keep Harry around long enough to get the whole story, not to mention all the other fun they could have with a decent pair of handcuffs. There was something Brad could discuss. If he hadn’t already.

Harry ran an aggravated hand through his hair. “Why can’t you leave it at that? At my being wrong for you? At the eventuality that I’ll hurt you? That it’s best to stop this now? Why can’t you accept that I know best, in these circumstances?”

“Why can’t you _explain_ the circumstances?” Adam returned. Like hell Harry was going to get away with running away after that poor excuse.

“Mer—hell.” Harry sighed. Adam stared at him with a ‘yeah, I did catch that, Harry’ expression. “Merlin then. Why do you care so damn much?”

“Why do you?”

“Who said I did?”

“I think we covered this already, baby. Anyway, if you didn’t you could have blown me off in a hundred different ways by now,” Adam said. “But you don’t. You respond and engage. You’re here with me.”

Harry stared at him in pure shock.

Adam took one look at his face and burst out laughing again. “Oh my god, Harry.” He stood up, shifted over Harry’s legs and dropped himself next to the man on the couch, slipping an arm around his back to wrap him a hug. “You’re fucking priceless, you know that?”

“I’m a bloody idiot,” Harry corrected.

“Nah, you’re just irresistibly drawn to my magnetic allure,” Adam laughed.

“Hmm, yes. I think I _can_ reasonably blame this on you,” Harry said, smiling a little.

Adam pressed a brief kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re pretty hot together, even when you’re being a bitch. You’ll come around eventually.”

Harry stifled a groan against Adam’s shoulder. “It’s called ‘giving up,’ Adam.”

“Never going to happen.” Adam said. “We both want this, if only you’d stop being a stubborn fuck.”

His shoulders slumped. “Sometimes it’s not just about wanting.”

Sometimes the things Harry said blew him away. Adam shook his head, “Yes, it is. If you want something, you go after it. It doesn’t matter what’s going on around you. You’re holding yourself back, nothing else, Harry. You can trust me. There’s nothing else I can tell you. Whatever it is, whatever scares you, makes you think this is a bad idea, makes you ignore me when I’m right in front of you, waving a damn flag and singing your name… You can trust me with it.”

“You know we’ve only known each other a couple months,” Harry said, head tucked under Adam’s chin. “In the grand scheme of things…”

Adam squeezed him slightly. “In the grand scheme of things, I doubt either of us have a damn clue. But I’m a very trustworthy person, even for just two months.”

“I know,” Harry sighed softly.

“Is that the sound of you conceding?” Adam cheered silently. Whatever Harry said, it was progress. Lots of progress. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Brad after all.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Come on, baby,” Adam said. “One date? It will be spectacular. You know I'm gonna be so good to you.”

“Not a chance,” Harry said.

Adam groomed fingers lazily through Harry’s hair. “You’ll come to your senses eventually.”

“Or you will,” Harry said.

“Mmm.” Adam knew better than that, but he’d humor Harry until another increasingly more frequent opportunity cropped up. “Got anywhere to be?”

“I never could’ve stopped by if I did. Allison’s been working her charms with Angie. But it will be pretty quiet until the show now anyway. You’ll have to go soon. An hour?” Harry glanced at his watch.

“Sick,” Adam sunk down on the couch a little, grabbing the remote before nudging at Harry until he got them both horizontal. He settled an arm over Harry’s waist after Harry finished squirming and shifting.

“Oh, bloody hell, Brad was right. I am leading you on,” Harry groaned a minute later while Adam channel surfed.

Adam forcibly pushed himself up on one elbow to lean over and peer down at his couch-mate’s worried face. “Is _that_ what he said to you?” He was once again revising his opinion on killing the social butterfly.

Harry made a face, “Stop fucking towering over me, Adam.”

Adam scowled down at him, “You are not ‘leading me on,’ Harry.”

“Would you know if I was?” Harry snapped back.

“Yes. Because I am not a total fucking moron,” Adam said. No wonder Harry was upset and looked ready to bolt. No wonder he was suddenly obsessed about hurting Adam. He was going to torture Brad and _then_ kill him. “And as much as you and Brad may be concerned about my wellbeing, I can and will make my own damn decisions about it.”

Harry propped himself up in his elbows. Adam rested a hand on his chest to keep him from getting up, because getting up invariably meant leaving. “Adam, I am not looking to date.”

“Sometimes you find it anyway,” Adam said stubbornly. He reined his temper in before they started a fight that resulted in days of avoiding each other. All he really wanted was an hour of cuddling and zoning out before someone came to get him for the show. “Look, I don’t have it all worked out. But I have pieces of you worked out. Those pieces make me want you more, make me want to know you more, so…” Adam put on his best seductive smile.

“Oh, knock it off.” Harry rolled his eyes.

The look dropped off Adam’s face. He offered a half smile instead, “Anyone else would have swooned.”

“Tenner says I can list five people who wouldn’t have,” Harry said. He dropped back onto the couch.

“…I refuse to take such an easy challenge.” Adam settled back in beside Harry, dropping his arm around his waist again. He looked down at the curve of Harry’s cheek, the bump of his nose, and the teeth worrying a reddening lip. He wondered if Harry would bolt if he kissed him.

Harry’s head tilted back to look at him. “Don’t you have songs to sort through?”

“Needed a break,” Adam said. “Let’s just crash and watch something for awhile.” He contemplated the muted TV screen for a second before contemplating the top of Harry’s head again.

Harry craned to look at him again, “You have the remote..?”

Adam beamed down at him, “Yeah, I do.” He leaned down and dropped a slow, light kiss on Harry’s lips, just a press of the lips really, savoring the salt of his skin and the noise of surprise. When he pulled back he felt calm and happy again. “So, Jersey Shore’s on.”

\----------

The man was average in every sense of the word. Average height, average hair, forgettable face, quiet voice. He wore jeans and a t-shirt with a pair of beaten up sneakers. There was nothing remarkable about him. That is, until Harry ran into him for the third time in one day and didn’t even remember it.

“Harry, isn’t it?” The guy asked.

Harry frowned, “I’m sorry?”

“Steve Bale.” The man smiled shyly. “We met a couple hours ago, outside by the barriers.”

“Oh, right! Steve.” Harry got that sinking feeling. “We met at the diner on fifth street too, didn’t we?” He only remembered that because Steve mentioned it last time they met by the barricades.

“Yeah! That’s me.” Steve peered past Harry into the arena. “Are the artists rehearsing then?”

“Steve, how did you get in here?” Harry asked. They were in the amphitheatre, at their latest stop in Pittsburgh, and no one but employees was allowed in.

“I’m here for the concert then the fan meet after,” Steve said.

“Ah. That’s not for a several hours yet. I’m afraid you have to leave,” Harry nodded in the direction of the exit.

Steve stayed where he was. “No one seemed to mind.”

“They would if they realized,” Harry insisted. He wondered why they hadn’t. He wondered why he hadn’t. Sweet Merlin, that was disturbing. “You’ve got to go.”

“But when do I get to come back?”

“In a couple hours, when the venue opens to attendees,” Harry said. He led Steve toward the closest exit.

“You were in the papers with Adam, weren’t you?” Steve asked as Harry hustled him toward the door.

“…in the tabloids, yes,” Harry said.

Steve craned around to look at Harry. “You’re dating then.”

“No, those were just rumors,” Harry said. “I thought they’d died down by now.”

Steve shook his head, “Things don’t die down in the world of fan gossip. So there’s nothing between you two?” He sounded skeptical.

Harry did not need this from a bloody fan. Everyone was a bloody suspicious critic. “We’re mates, friends, as it happens, and that’s it.”

“Even though you two went dancing together?” Steve asked.

Harry urged him through the door out into the bright sunlight of ‘not the amphitheatre.’ “It’s just dancing.”

“It looked like more than that, the way Adam was all over you, so mad when you were dancing with that other guy,” Steve said. He walked outside slowly, a little frown on his face.

“Right.” Harry said, “Looks can be deceiving.”

Steve smiled slightly, “Suppose so.” He waved. “See you later, I guess.”

Harry watched him walk off until Steve vanished around a corner, ignoring the security guard’s questioning look. “Don’t…let him back in, okay?” A disturbing chill crept up Harry’s spine. The only club Harry and Adam had ever been to was Apex, and the only photos that surfaced from that were of Adam and Harry leaving it with Jack. How the hell did this guy know Adam had pulled Harry off Alex?

He needed to talk to Jack.

\----------

“Tell me when you see him,” Jack said, hovering behind Harry. They were up in the small surveillance room of the amphitheatre. Jack took it over when Harry came to talk to him about Steve. Now Harry was sitting in front of a dozen television screens with Jack standing broodingly behind him.

It took a minute to locate him, but Harry was not surprised to find him hanging around. “By the barricades,” he pointed at the screen. “White t-shirt, sandy hair. He’s got a VIP pass, Jack. He’s not going anywhere.”

“We could refuse to admit him,” Jack said grimly.

“That’d go over well,” Harry scoffed. “You know better. There would be a ruckus for refusing him when we’re going on a vague notion.”

“You’ve seen him three times today and it sounds like he was in Washington, DC too,” Jack reminded.

Harry shook his head, “Still slim evidence.”

“I’ll take care of that.” Jack rewound the tape and froze the screen on Steve. He printed it. “Stay up here, keep an eye on him. I’ll call down and have someone cover for you. Do not go outside on your own, got it?”

“Jack,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I can take care of myself. I’m not incompetent here.”

“I mean it, Harry.” Jack headed out the door.

“Anyone else can watch a telly screen, Jack!” Harry yelled after him. “I have to help get half the set together!”

Jack’s head popped back into the room. “You stay here. I’m calling down, someone will fill in for you.” Harry’s frown told Jack exactly what he thought of that plan. Jack ignored him.

“I mean it, Harry, keep your ass glued to that seat,” Jack’s voice carried back from the stairwell. “Eugenia will be up in twenty.”

\----------

Jack called together a powwow. He’d circulated Steve’s photo among the crew in record time, making sure everyone had seen it. He had gathered details with ease and was carrying around his laptop like it was the holy grail.

After a brief fight with Angie—something Harry had watched on the security cameras and honestly wished he’d had popcorn for—Jack won thirty minutes to do as he pleased with the Idol tour team. Everyone who had seen Steve had all been collected and questioned.

Now nearly twenty people fidgeted and milled across one small room, most of them congregating around the snack table. Harry was under the impression Jack had thrown an impromptu, extremely awkward party. Only it consisted solely of members of the security team, and the two biggest showstoppers, Kris and Adam. It all felt like a bit of an office birthday affair. It was hard not to snicker at the image.

Jack elbowed him in the side. “Since this has all happened due to you, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness on your part.”

Harry willed the grin off his face. “Sorry, captain. Won’t happen again.” Oh, Merlin, he was watching too much telly with Matt. _Gilligan’s Island_ was beginning to seep into his subconscious.

Jack eyed him. He seemed to decide to ignore Harry and instead turned toward the crowd. “Alright, people, we’ve got,” he glanced at his watch, “twenty-three minutes before our beloved manager comes charging in here to send us all on our merry way. Let’s get the show on the road!”

He flipped open his laptop and connected it with the television. “This is Steve Bale. I understand at least thirty people on this tour have seen him at one point or another.” He flicked to another screen. “This is a list of locations and times he’s been spotted. As you may notice, he’s shown up across six states, possibly eight. I’ve gathered full details on these incidences. I’ve called this meeting to go over them and establish a plan of action. Questions?”

Kris raised a hand, “I get why security is all over this. But why are me and Adam here? And Harry?”

“Harry’s adopted security,” Mark, a large, butch man chuckled. Harry sent him a glare.

“He’s also a key witness,” Jack said pointedly.

“You’ve seen him too then?” Adam asked. Concern laced his voice. “You never mentioned.”

“Neither did you,” Harry said. “In any case, I only noticed him today.”

“He’s stalking Harry?” Adam asked Jack.

“What?” Harry jerked slightly. “Who said _that_?”

“Harry, he’s been following you around all day,” Jack said.

Harry’s face set mulishly. “I never said that. I said I’ve seen him three times today and barely noticed. He could be following anyone, thank-you.”

“Which is exactly why I’ve asked Adam and Kris here.” Jack nodded at Kris, “To answer your question, Kris, the three of you are at biggest risk. Any stalker spotted is most likely to be one of yours.”

“I’m going to argue and say it’s most likely Adam’s or Harry’s,” Kris said, offering an apologetic grin to Adam. “Your fans are the craziest.”

“Usually they’re the best sort,” Adam grinned back.

“Kids, this is not a laughing matter,” Jack snapped.

“Yeah,” someone spoke from the back, “If there’s a stalker following one of you three, we need to squash it fast. You have no idea how bad these things can get.” Half the security team nodded. Harry knew from all the stories, usually over poker, that working in security, they tended to run into stalkers. It was half the job. It could get creepy. Letters penned in blood sort of creepy.

Harry buried his head in his hands, “I’m worried he’s stalking _Adam_ , not me.” He inserted into the buzzing conversation.

“He’s run into you three times,” Jack said, a note of patience in his voice.

“Exactly,” Harry said, glancing up waspishly.

“That proves Jack’s point more than yours, Harry,” Mark said after a pause.

“No, it doesn’t,” Harry sighed. “He’s had me unawares three times and hasn’t done a thing. I’m either not the focus of his attention or he’s a harmless groupie.”

“Or his obsession hasn’t elevated to the point of attacking you,” Jack said even as Mark broke in with,

“That’s not how it works, Harry.”

And Adam grumbled, “Fuck, Harry, come _on_.”

“I think I know a little about this,” Harry began. Voldemort had to be worse than any stalker these bodyguards had come across. Not to mention some of his own fans. Harry knew obsession and stalking patterns.

“As observant as you are, you’re not really security, Harry,” Someone spoke up.

Harry’s mouth slammed shut. His eyes narrowed and his fingers clenched around the table he was leaning against. He wanted to punch whoever said that. No, Harry wasn’t security, he was only the one who noticed this Steve in the first place. Apparently getting stalked by a half-human psychopath bent on Harry’s destruction was utterly different than getting stalked by an obsessed fan bent on winning over someone’s undying affection. Alright, they didn’t know that about him. Jack and Adam barely knew the basic facts. It did not stop the feeling of offense from welling up. He probably had more experience than anyone else here.

Jack waited a beat and then moved on. “We’re here so we can all be updated on everything we now know about Bale. Adam, Kris and Harry, who have all met Bale in person, will fill us in on any impressions. You’ll pass the information on to the security teams on duty. Angie and I will talk to the Idols and other members of staff.”

“What about the fact that he’s due to show up in about two hours?” Harry asked. “Concert attendee, VIP tickets and all that.”

Jack scowled, “We’ll let him in. We’ll just keep a close eye on him. Alright, impressions?”

“I talked to him a couple days ago, out at the barriers in Albany,” Adam said. “Nothing seemed odd about him. He was a nice guy, asked for my autograph. He stared a lot, but that’s not exactly unusual,” Adam shrugged.

“He didn’t say anything?” Mark asked.

“He asked for my autograph, that’s it,” he frowned. “He made some comment, but I didn’t catch it.”

Kris’ eyebrows drew together, “He was really nice, soft spoken and everything. I remember thinking at the time how nice it was to meet someone who didn’t scream at me. He seemed a little out of place. That was a few days back, coming into the center at, er, Boston, I think. He wasn’t weird or anything.” Kris frowned, “Though he did ask about Adam.”

“Me?” Adam looked surprised. “What about?”

“Usual stuff,” Kris shrugged. “Where were you. Could he talk to you. What shampoo do you use.”

“What shampoo does he use?” Harry asked incredulously. A spike of worry went through him. The stalker was definitely not his. He did not like the idea of some psychopath watching Adam. The worry was followed by a paranoid chill, a throwback to Voldemort, Harry was sure. Voldemort stalking Adam. Harry wanted to hex something at the thought alone.

“It’s not that weird,” Kris defended. He looked apologetic anyway.

“It’s not,” Adam affirmed. “My fans are always asking crazy shit. Just this morning I found a comment on twitter, someone asking what type of condoms I use. It was retweeted thirty times.”

Snickers went through the room. Mark shook his head, “You’re joking.”

Adam made a ‘wish I was’ face and laughed at Mark’s expression. “What can I say, everybody loves me.”

“A little too much,” Harry grumbled.

Adam beamed, “Jealous, baby?”

The look Harry gave him could have stopped Superman in his tracks. Adam, however, was impervious. Despite his best efforts, Harry could not work out how he had an automatic defense against all of his expressions. “I think we can safely say Steve is stalking Adam if anyone, and therefore you can all stop looking at me like I’m a toddler about to get run over by a pedophilic van.”

“We can’t rule out any possibilities yet, Harry,” Jack said firmly.

“Oh! He was at that bar in DC,” Adam added suddenly, sitting up a little straighter.

“What?” Harry looked up. “No, he wasn’t.”

“He was,” Adam said. “Sitting two tables down from the one all your friends were at. I noticed him that night, but it didn’t connect with the guy I met a couple days ago. He’s kind of nondescript.” Which Harry knew Adam really hated saying about people; he liked to believe there was something interesting about everyone.

Harry looked slightly freaked out. “Did he do anything?”

“He sat there drinking, watching the spectacle you—we were making.” Adam winced ever so slightly. Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t notice anything else. We left not long after that.”

Jack stepped in, moving the conversation on to all the other sightings. He listed everyone who had seen Bale and their experiences with him.

“He’s always around,” A security woman muttered. “At the centers, the hotels, restaurants and interviews. How did we fail to notice him before?”

Harry thought that was a really good question.

Jack shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t like this. I’d rather we not let this guy in tonight, but until we have something a little more concrete to back this up, I want double detail working tonight. And Charlie, contact our previous locations for surveillance footage. Let’s see if we can’t pinpoint when we started hauling around our little groupie.”

After the meeting Jack pulled him aside. “You don’t like it.”

“Remind me what’s to like, Jack,” Harry muttered.

“Nothing much we can do beyond this,” Jack shrugged. “How’d you notice him, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, “He told me.” At Jack’s raised eyebrow, Harry elaborated, “He came up to me three times in one day. If I didn’t connect the dots at that point I might as well be put to pasture. Hell, I should have noticed earlier.”

“You’re not security,” Jack said. He gave Harry the look that said ‘we both know I don’t believe that, but until you tell me otherwise, we’re sticking to that story.’ “ _I_ should have noticed earlier.”

Harry scowled, “Why didn’t we?”

Adam came up beside them, draping an arm across Harry’s shoulders. “Jack, I do wish you would stop taking up all of Harry’s time. I barely see him anymore. Someone named Tucker is bringing me all my coffee these days, and at least one chai latte goes to waste every day.”

“Maybe you should stop ordering them,” Harry said.

Adam leaned into him a little and carded his fingers through Harry’s hair. “I keep hoping you’ll come back to me.”

“You’ve got your wish,” Jack informed him.

“What?” Adam and Harry said in unison.

“While, ah, talking to Angie today I convinced her it might be a good idea for Harry to shadow you for awhile,” Jack said, leading them down the hallway. “That is, Harry, you’ll be working with light and sound checks, mid-concert problems, but otherwise you’ll be the eleventh Idol.”

Adam literally began bouncing at Harry’s side. “This is going to be sick,” He said gleefully.

“I’m going to be sick,” Harry said. “Jack—”

“Adam, you’re late for rehearsal,” Jack said.

“Isn’t Harry supposed to come too?”

“Go.”

Adam laughed. “Your sense of humor is failing you, Jack.” He strutted out of the room.

“Are you trying to make my life hell?” Harry asked Jack once the door closed.

Jack gave him a long stare. Harry had that annoying feeling he constantly got with Jack, the one that told Harry Jack was saying long and irritating sentences that completely invalidated Harry’s argument with one expressive gaze.

“We both know there are things about yourself that you don’t mention,” Jack said. “And one or two of those things—shall we say, certain skill sets—could be quite useful for keeping an eye on both Adam and Kris. Adam and Kris almost live and breathe the same space every single day. Your keeping an eye on them, despite what you may think, is a great deal less intrusive than, say, my suddenly dogging their every move.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that your three main stalker victims are all clumped together in one spot day in and day out,” Harry said pointedly. It also didn’t hurt that Adam was already prone to dragging Harry along every single opportunity he got. Harry tagging along with the Idols wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all. Like hell he was going to remind Jack of that though.  
“It certainly doesn’t hurt my job,” Jack grinned, showing all his teeth.

There was one flaw Harry happily jumped on. “If I’m being glued to Adam, what about all his traveling and side trips for his album? He’s been running around like mad for it. I can hardly run off with him on those excursions and keep an eye on Kris.”

“I’m working on that one,” Jack said. “He’s not off for another session for a couple days. I’ll arrange something by then. Angie already agreed to this idea, Harry. So you’ve got two options before you: go along with my dastardly plan or quit.”

“Even though this could easily end up drawing more media attention?” Harry tried.

“Safety, I’m afraid, is more important than pesky reporters sticking their noses everywhere they don’t belong,” Jack said mildly.

“Fine,” Harry rubbed at his face. “Just fine. I’ll be their shadow. Do I get paid overtime?”

\----------

As it happened, Harry didn’t get paid overtime. He worked four more hours, on a good day, but his new career as hired Idol stalker apparently fell under “your own personal protection” and not “work that demands cash payment.”

Harry didn’t push the issue. The managers and just about everyone else were at the end of their respective ropes as it was and Harry didn’t want to get fired over it. The idea of Adam having a stalker without Harry around to keep an eye on him, it did not sit well at all.

And he was quite sure the stalker was Adam’s. Harry did not get the vibe he usually got when being stalked. The one that made his hair stand on end and caused him to act like Mad Eye Moody on a bad ‘the trees are watching me’ day.

Someone propped their arms on the edge of the van’s middle seat, chin resting on forearms. “Whatchya thinkin’ about?”

Harry tilted his head back toward Allison. “Nothing.”

“You have an introspective look,” Allison said, nudging his shoulder with her elbow.

“Probably ‘cause we’re all asleep on our feet,” Scott said from the back.

“And who knows how long Adam’s keeping him up at night,” Anoop added innocently. Adam laughed next to him.

Kris groaned at Harry’s side, “As Adam’s actual and sole roommate I can tell y’all to stuff it.”

“You’re just grumpy because Adam’s not crushing on you anymore,” Lil ruffled his hair.

Kris swatted her away, “I am not.”

“Aw, don’t worry, baby,” Adam leaned forward to ruffle his hair too, mussing it back into shape as an afterthought. “I’ll always have a place in my heart for my crush on you.”

Kris swatted Adam’s hand away too, but he was laughing. “You’re all assholes.”

“See what you’ve started, Harry?” Allison said, grinning and nudging him.

“I said one word.” Harry muffled a yawn. “But if you must know, I was thinking I’m not getting paid nearly enough for this.”

A bunch of cheers went up around the van, “None of us is getting paid enough!” Megan stretched. “We almost there?”

“Five minutes,” Mark said. “The radio’s been advertising, so there will be fans.”

“We getting hustled straight inside or do we get to play?” Adam asked.

“Autographs afterward,” Mark said.

Harry let his eyes slide shut again. Then again maybe getting fired wasn’t a half bad idea. If he was off the job, he could track this Bale guy on his own. It’d be a lot easier than babysitting and being babysat. He didn’t like sitting and waiting for the shoe to drop, never knowing where to expect Bale, but knowing he would show up nonetheless.

That was another thing. How the hell did he keep sneaking up on them? Despite their best efforts, the now constant watching, they never quite caught him before he caught them. It was as if Bale was popping up out of thin air from one moment to the next, only the security footage proved he was there the entire time, showed him coming and going.

Maybe it was better to say it was like Bale had some sort of perception filter, Harry thought. None of them could see him until he wanted to be seen.

It was driving Harry mad, the way Bale slid in and out of the picture like one of the blasted portraits back at school, back in the wizarding world.

If Harry didn’t know any better, he would say Steve Bale was a wizard. What were the odds of that? A wizard showing up to stalk Adam, Harry’s friend-or-something. But it wasn’t likely. Bale didn’t act or feel like a wizard in any sense, except for the bald fact he kept showing up in impossible places without a single person noticing.

“You’re doing it again,” Allison tapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll crack under my impressive and unrelenting interrogation sooner or later, man.”

Harry huffed, tilting his head back once more to look at the cheerful redhead. “You remind me irritatingly of Ginny,” He informed her

As distraction tactics went, it worked beautifully. Allison perked up and asked, “Ginny?”

“A friend of mine. From Britain,” Harry elaborated.

“What’s she like then?” Allison pushed. She leaned in a little closer, resting her chin on the back of the seat next to Harry’s head. “Do you keep in touch?”

“She’s a pain in the arse,” Harry said, not quite able to hide his smile. “She’s got five older brothers, grew up with six, and knows how to keep all of them in line without much effort. Could kick their arses across the countryside too, if she felt like. Has on occasion.”

“You grew up with her?” Allison asked. “Oh my god, is this the girl you almost married?”

Harry laughed, “Yeah, that’s her. She’s a bloody tyrant, gets it from her mum. Hold on.” He wiggled, lifting his hips up and digging out his wallet. He pulled out a slip of paper, “Her and me, not long before I moved to the U.S.”

Allison plucked it from him and dropped back into her seat. “She’s pretty. Were you two, like, in love in this picture?” She passed it over to Matt and Adam before Harry could ask for it back.

“Nope,” Harry said. “Just friends. We were mostly friends, just confused growing up.”

“You’re all over her,” Allison objected. “Arms wrapped around her. Hers on yours.”

“It’s just a hug, Alli.”

“Hmph. Tell me about her then—”

“We’ve arrived,” Mark called back from the front seat.

“Damn,” Allison pouted. “You’ll tell me more about her later, won’t you?”

Harry chuckled, “Anything you want to know.” Talking about Ginny was a hell of a lot better than talking about Bale, what he was really thinking about. Merlin knew how much everyone would flip out if he told them he hoped Bale was in the crowd outside this radio station, and at the next, and the next. Because he wanted to talk to Bale, face to face, and he had no idea how else to catch the guy. From all previous evidence, he certainly couldn’t catch the man unawares, so on his own turf it was. It had to be.

The group exited the car slowly. Harry climbed out of the car last, trying to hang back a little as  
security hustled everyone up along the cleared path toward the entrance as fans waved excitably behind barricades. Adam slowed down himself, backing up a few feet to step along side Harry.

“Something up?” He asked quietly, peering down at him.

He was wearing large, black sunglasses and still somehow Harry could feel the heat of his stare. “No, it’s nothing. Come on.” He hooked his hand around Adam’s arm, tugging him forward. He steadfastly ignored the flash of cameras and shouted questions about their relationship. Adam walked alongside easily, not moving from Harry’s loose grip, but not reacting either. He waved to his fans cheerfully with his free hand. Harry noticed Mark’s arched eyebrow as they slid inside the door.

It might not have been smart. Harry was perfectly aware of that. But he couldn’t tell Adam he was hanging back to sniff out Bale, and he certainly wasn’t bloody leaving Adam out there as some sort of last man standing, just _there_ in the open, available for whatever it was Bale wanted.

Harry glanced up to see Adam beaming down at him, one eyebrow quirked in silent question. Or amusement. Or triumph. Harry looked away. Bloody hell, he was not going there.

“Something going on?” Mark asked as they were ushered down the hallway.

“Apparently—” Adam started.

“Adam was lagging behind,” Harry interrupted quickly.

Adam stared at him, “I wasn’t—”

“Hello! I’m Fred Martin, I’ll be your host for this evening.” A tall, balding man in his forties stepped out into the hallway, beaming at them. “My kids wanted to come to work today, I had to let them down gently and promise autographs, if that’s alright with you all.”

Adam leaned in close as Fred waved them into the booth. “You’re so fucking explaining why you threw me under a bus later, baby.”

Harry patted him on the arm. “Not a chance in hell.”

Adam stopped to stare. “That’s a challenge.” He couldn’t stop his grin as he slid his sunglasses on top of his head.

“It’s not. It’s a fact.” He nodded toward the door. “You’re going to miss your interview.”

Adam vanished into the room, all smiles and a plot gleaming in his eyes. Mark cleared his throat, a pointed sound.

Harry shrugged at the bulky man’s stare, “I didn’t want him standing outside alone.”

“That’s all it was?” Mark asked skeptically. “A protective gesture from an Idol crewmember?”

“You wouldn’t do the same?” Harry asked, heading down the hallway. “I’m going to check out the fans,” He added over his shoulder.

“Be back in twenty,” Mark called after him in his most official no-nonsense tone.

“I’ll be back before our Idols have a chance to step out among their adoring masses,” Harry said. He slid out a side door, not wanting to go out the front and alert every single person to his presence. Really he only wanted to catch the attention of one person in particular.

And as luck would have it, Steve Bale was standing right there as Harry rounded the building, circling back to the front. He stood just off to the side of the main mass of the crowd. He would have to get around the circling fans, but if he went around the back he could avoid most of the attention. Thankfully, most fans weren’t interested in a tour worker alone, even one featured with one of their idols in all the tabloids.

Harry headed around the crowd, keeping an eye on his prey the entire time. Bale looked in his direction and focused in on him as though he couldn’t help it. Their eyes met and held. Harry was not going to look away under any circumstances. He didn’t want to lose track of Bale again.

Bale did not plan to look away either. He maintained eye contact even as he stood from his slouched position against a lamppost. He edged backward slowly.

Harry cursed silently and picked up pace. So did Bale.

Then a blur of flesh and black cotton tumbled into Harry’s view. A tall, lanky fan pushed shaggy blond hair back and smiled at Harry tentatively. “Sorry, tripped. Aren’t you..?”

Harry shifted around the bloke quickly and swore loudly. Bale was gone. He craned around, looking in every direction. There was no sign of him.

Harry scowled and turned to head back to the station. How the hell did Bale do it? He nearly walked straight into the lanky fan.

“Can I do something for you?” He asked crisply.

“Ah,” The guy hesitated, holding out a pen halfway. “You’re…you work… I mean… Would it be okay if I got your autograph?”

Harry barely bit back a snarl, and couldn’t quite stop the frown that automatically plastered itself across his mouth. “Why in the world would you want _my_ autograph?”

“You’re Adam’s boy—uhm,” He stopped and backpedalled as fast as he could as Harry’s expression darkened. “Friend… And,” He hesitated again, “And you’re Harry Potter.”

“I don’t think that,” Harry felt his brain freeze over slightly. Had this kid really just called him Potter? He had never come across an Idol fan that also happened to be his own fan. “How did…you’re..?”

He pushed is hair back and lowered his voice, “Imma squib. My mom’s a witch.” He glanced around. “I’m Terry. Big fan.” He held up _Enquirer_ questioningly. “Can I..?”

Harry bit his lip. “Terry? Can I make a personal request?”

Terry brightened, “Sure!”

“Two things really,” Harry amended. “Could you not…mention my surname around here? To Adam or other fans, or anyone?”

Terry smiled, confusion apparent. “Sure… Er, why? It is something to do with calling yourself ‘Grey’?” He patted the tabloid paper. “I thought that was funny.”

“Yeah, exactly. I’m Grey here, and I’d like to keep it that way if I can.” Harry smiled sheepishly, frustration vanishing into worry. “Would you mind my signing your paper with ‘Grey’? It’s important to me.”

“Yeah, sure!” Terry thrust the article toward him again, offering a green marker. “You were incredible in Britain. But I kept hoping you would sign on to a Quidditch team.”

Harry scrawled his name, Harrison Grey, and ‘thanks, Terry’ across his chest on the tabloid. He smiled briefly at the kid. “Things got a touch too exhausting in Britain. I needed to get away.”

“That’s why you’re here?” Terry asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “What’s your last name again, Terry?”

Terry nearly vibrated, a grin covering his face from ear to ear, “Lancen. Terry Lancen, from Three Points, Arizona.”

“You’re far from home,” Harry said.

“Not so far, magically speaking,” he said. “Thanks so much!”

“Sure thing. I’ve got to get back inside. It was nice to meet you,” Harry said, turning away.

“You too!” Terry waved at him.

Harry waved over his shoulder. He made a beeline for the door back inside as a few more fans eyed him curiously. It was a relief ducking into the air conditioned building. He felt he could let his guard down a little. The driver gave him a questioning look. Harry nodded at him and hoped he wouldn’t ask any awkward questions. “I better get back before they get out of the interview.”

Mark was leaning against the wall near the door to the booth. He arched an eyebrow at Harry’s approach. “Find anything of interest?”

“Not really,” Harry said. He didn’t want to go into something with Mark. It would end up a fight about Harry’s level of intelligence, he had no doubt, and an interesting report back to Jack too.

“You were gone a long time for nothing,” he said.

Harry shrugged, “I met a fan, actually.”

“A fan?”

“Yeah. Nice kid.”

“Okay.” Mark settled back against the wall. They waited silently for the Idols to come out of their interview. It was a blessedly quiet event after that. Harry was kicking himself for losing Bale, but it was a comfort to know the stalker was gone when Adam headed out to greet the fans.

He watched absently as Terry squeezed in and waved his tabloid at Adam. Adam took it with a smile and scrawled his name across it, glancing over it casually. He was seeing a lot of tabloids for autographs lately, Harry knew. But Adam paused, a tiny frown marring his forehead. He glanced in Harry’s direction for the briefest of seconds before he handed the article back to Terry. He asked Terry something with a smile. Terry beamed at him, said something back. Then Adam said something else and was moving on.

Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He wondered what Adam asked.

\----------

  



	4. Chapter 4

  
“So, like, were you two gonna get married?” Allison was propped on the edge of the bus sofa, elbows on knees, chin resting in the palm of one hand.

It was nine hours later, after the Columbus show and everyone was piled on buses as they rolled toward their next destination. Adam couldn’t quite remember where. All the places were blurring together at this point. He thought the state started with an m. Minnesota maybe. Or Michigan. Wherever they were heading, Allison had sprung out of nowhere only two hours earlier, as Adam headed out toward the fans, dragging him off to the side and telling him she was going to ambush and interrogate Harry, a la his promise to her.

“I’m too wired to sleep, man,” Allison informed him. “And he promised to spill it about his girlfriend. Can’t let this moment slip by.”

“Tonight?” Adam pouted. “I wanted to be there for that, he gets so squirmy—”

“Okay, I don’t need to know about your sex lives,” Allison said, poking him in the stomach before he could swat her hand away.

“Cute.”

“I’m giving my big bro a heads up. If you can work it, get your ass on my bus.” She winked at him before she continued on her way toward the barricades herself.

Adam had known he’d have to work fast. It was all he could do to convince the drivers Allison _had_ to ride with them for the PS3 gaming marathon they were going on. No one kicked ass at Grand Theft Auto like she did. He wasn’t remotely surprised at the way she’d rolled with that announcement. What threw him off balance was how she still managed to sneak Harry on, without Harry or anyone else seeming to notice. Harry was just there, on the bus as it left the arena. He’d looked vaguely surprised, but unperturbed as Allison dragged him over to one of the sofas. Adam was definitely grilling her on that later. Knowing how to pull that trick would come in handy, he was sure. For now, he was just happy to be squished onto one bus with two too many people, rushing toward... Montana. Massachusetts. Somewhere.

“Are people slipping you liquor?” Harry arched an eyebrow, settled comfortably on the opposite couch with one leg drawn up to his chest, arm curled around his knee. He glanced down at her bottle of soda pointedly.

Allison picked up the bottle, took a long swig and then tucked it behind her. “Nope. That’d be wrong.”

Adam snorted. He lay sprawled beside Allison. His head rested against the armrest, his feet propped against the couch inches from Allison’s leg. “You know our Allicat would never break the rules like that.”

Kris strolled into the room from the small kitchenette in the front, glanced around, and then wedged himself between Harry and Matt, who had taken up residence on the other edge of the sofa. “Alli wouldn’t break what rule again?”

“The good behavior while remaining a minor rule,” Matt grinned, tilting his beer bottle in her direction in salute before taking a swallow.

Allison gave him the finger. “Besides my mom is just on the other bus.”

“Yes, conveniently not here,” Harry said.

“You haven’t answered the question, babe,” Adam said, taking the heat of his little sister, who he was totally looking out for, thank-you, and smirked as the others refocused on the question. He twisted his own beer in his fingers. “Something about marriage.”

“Hey, yeah!” Allison narrowed her eyes. “You’re not changing the subject are you? Reneging on a promise?”

Kris chuckled even as Matt straightened up. “I forgot we’re getting to play twenty questions.”

“I only promised Allison, I recall.” Harry shook his head, “And me and Ginny got as far as the altar before we figured it all out and called everything off.”

“…that’s last minute,” Allison said.

Adam stared at Harry. “So… What happened?” Somehow he couldn’t picture the guy he’d marked off as ‘his,’ or, okay, ‘work in progress, but eventually his’ as ever being straight. He really couldn’t see it. He knew some guys knew they were gay, others lived in denial for fucking eternity, and most worked it out around high-school. But he’d had Harry pegged as the first.

He shrugged one shoulder. “The priest asked if she would take me as her husband, the whole spiel, Gin said no.”

“Ouch,” Matt winced. “That must’ve hurt.”

Harry laughed, “Not as much as you would think. I think my exact response was, ‘oh, thank god.’”

Kris snorted, Adam laughed outright, and Allison was stuffing her fist in her mouth to suppress her giggles. Oh yeah, Allicat was not hiding her liquor very well. Adam made a note to cut her off.

Matt’s eyebrow quirked up, “Then why did you two get engaged in the first place?”

Harry shrugged once more. “Expectation? Everyone thought we would, so we tried. Funny thing is, if she hadn’t said no, I probably would have married her.”

“Because people wanted you to,” Adam said. He didn’t even know what to say. He never liked it when people did something for the sake of others’ expectations.

Harry met Adam’s disbelieving gaze squarely. “I loved her.”

“But?” Danny’s head popped out from one of the bunk beds. “Sorry, it’s kinda hard to tune you guys out, headphones and all.”

“You really want to know?” Harry asked. “It was, to be honest, easy. Marrying Gin was easy, and a life with her would probably have been easy too. I loved her, and I never thought about what I wanted, and everyone made getting married the easiest option for me or her to pick.”

“That’s the stupidest,” Adam started, irritated beyond words. Allison’s fingers dug into his leg and Adam’s jaw snapped shut. From the annoyed look on Alli’s face he suspected he wasn’t helping his odds with landing Harry.

Harry’s mouth twisted wryly, “Yeah, it was stupid. Ginny, bless, worked that out in time.”

“And you weren’t upset?” Kris asked. “If Katy had said that to me…”

Adam and Matt both broke into hysterics. “Are you confessing something, man?” Matt asked.

Kris’s eyes widened into saucers, “Um.”

Harry said, “You’re in love with Katy. Big difference. Gin and I weren’t upset, more relieved we hadn’t gone through with it. Even me. A mutual friend dragged us off to a private room, sat us down and made us explain ourselves. Talked it all out a good two hours. When we came back out, the reception was going on.”

“So everyone got to part-ay. All in all, a good day then?” Allison beamed.

Harry snorted, “No-o. The reception was going on, but Gin’s mother… Her wrath still gives me nightmares. Always wanted me as a son-in-law. And everyone else, well… It was all gossip through the grapevine and cameras flashing in our faces.”

“Sounds like every family reunion I’ve been dragged to,” Matt nodded sagely. “Drama about who ate the last danish, who said what about whoever the last time we were all together, that sort of thing.”

Kris shook his head, “Family’s there for support and love,” He said determinedly. “Weddings and reunions aren’t about the drama.”

“Families are all about the drama.” Adam laughed, “But love and support too.”

“Seconded,” Danny’s fingers waved from his bed.

“That’s my point,” Kris said, grinning in his direction.

Allison nodded, “still, you haven’t seen my auntie Lori.” She turned to Harry, “Drama with support, right?”

Harry blinked. His head tilted slightly to the side. “I…don’t know, not really. My friends were always supportive, even when I told them I was moving away, out of touch. Gin and ‘Mione especially. My family was different.”

It was clear everyone focused in on that right off, like a tank of piranhas smelling the blood in the water.

Adam frowned slightly. He fiddled with his bottle. “What do you mean exactly?”

“Family’s usually supportive,” Kris said. “Even when they hide it or get pissed.”

Harry snorted, “I’m sorry, Kris, but that’s a healthy family, not an unhealthy one.”

“But,” Matt began.

“Not all families are good ones.” Harry tried to cover his frustration by playing with his drink. Adam was focused in on Harry’s face, the exasperation and reluctance. Yeah, Harry had issues when it came to talking about himself. “I know it’s easy to forget when your family’s accepting, but sometimes you’re all a bit naïve. I’m glad you are. I mean, it’s good you have support. But families aren’t always nice.”

Adam actually sat up. His piercing gaze settled firmly on Harry. “Abusive, you mean?” He was thinking that explained a fucking lot, as it happened. The privacy, the touchiness, the cynicism. He tried to recall all the signs of a victim of abuse.

Harry blinked rapidly. “No-o, not abusive. Not really. Just not caring.” There was the half shrug again. “There’s never been love gained or lost where my relatives are concerned.”

“Shit, that sucks,” Matt said, which summed it up, Adam thought.

Adam tried to relax, but it niggled it at him. “You’re sure—”

“That I wasn’t abused?” Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure, Adam. Life’s just unfriendly sometimes.”

“Family’s important,” Kris started, a put-out frown marring his face.

Allison was staring morosely at Harry’s knees. “Anyone got any happier things?”

Adam pounced, because he had been waiting on this all day, wanting to bring it up, and he wasn’t adverse to changing the subject to something that didn’t make Harry look so unhappy. He could always prod at the issue when they had some time alone. “The signing after the radio interview was hot today.”

Kris snorted, “Fun, I can see. Hot, I don’t get.”

Adam only glanced at Kris before focusing in on Harry who was staring back at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah, hot. Lots of great fans. You know, there was this one kid who got Harry’s autograph too.”

“No way,” Allison brightened. “You gave someone your autograph? He just, what waltzed up and asked for it? I didn’t see that!” She started cracking up, falling over against Adam’s shins. “What did you do?”

Harry sighed, “Yes, I gave someone my autograph. He came up to me and asked for it with that ridiculous tabloid of me and Adam, the first one from DC. What was I supposed to say? Tell him to bugger off?”

“He seemed like a really big fan of you,” Adam said helpfully. A really sweet kid too, Adam thought, all hopeful smiles and eager questions.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “And you know that—”

Adam smiled, “I asked him.”

“Harry’s got fans now?” Danny rolled out of bed, “Those tabloids are really taking the shit out of you two, aren’t they?”

“You’re telling me,” Harry said.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Adam objected. “They’re just interested.”

“In your sex life,” Harry said. “And I guess by proxy, now my sex life.”

“So you two are sleeping together now?” Allison said.

“When did that happen?” Matt demanded.

“Connecticut,” Adam said playfully.

“It didn’t,” Harry spoke at the same time, but he gaped at Adam as the words sunk in. “We did not!”

“I distinctly remember it,” Adam said, chuckling.

“Details,” Allison said with a no-nonsense tone.

“No details,” Kris said a beat later.

“There are none,” Harry insisted.

“We slept together,” Adam looked to Allison. “We didn’t have sex.”

“Oh, cheat!” Allison rolled her eyes. “Bad Adam. What, you just shared the same bed? I do that with my cousins, yo.”

“But technically true,” Adam insisted cheerfully. “Baby, you can glare at me all you want, I’m not taking a word back,” He said to Harry.

“Berk.”

“Before we get into it,” Kris said, “Why don’t we drop it? Anyone for crawling into bed?”

“Not tired,” Matt said. “How about games?”

Allison jumped up, “God of War, I’m kicking your ass. Harry, wanna play with me?” Allison offered him a controller.

Harry passed it onto Matt. “I’m shit at video games, sorry, Alli. Strictly a spectator sport for me.”

“And I’m bowing out,” Adam said. “Matt move your ass to where you can actually see the TV without killing yourself.” They traded places, Adam settling in next to Kris as Matt dropped onto the couch across from him. Kris stood, grabbing up a few of the empty bottles off the table. “Kris..?”

“I’m opting for a book. Or my notebook, do some songwriting,” Kris said. “And passing out before they wake us up tomorrow. Today. Later. Night, guys.”

Adam took advantage and stretched out next to Harry. Harry didn’t object when Adam rested his head on his hip, tilting to see the mounted television. Adam hummed appreciatively when a hand stroked gently along his temple. Looking up at Harry, the guy was completely zoned out, focused on the screen, watching Allison go after something that looked like…a giant… spiky, vaguely human blob.

Harry hunched down slightly. “That’s supposed to be Hades?” He whispered.

“No idea,” Adam said.

Harry’s fingers paused in their slow rhythm along Adam’s temple. “I always pictured Hades tall, thin. Static? A bit more along the lines of one of those Gothic statues.”

Adam paused a second before saying, “You picture Hades like a twelfth century statue?”

Harry blinked and looked down at him. “Um. Yeah. That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

Adam’s mouth twitched, “Eccentric. Arguably a shining quality.”

“Isn’t eccentricity next to insanity?” Harry mused.

“It’s the light side of insanity,” Adam said. “Don’t worry, we’re all mad here.”

“Suppose that’s why I like it so much,” Harry said.

They jumped when the television clicked off and Matt spoke.

“Alright, I’m for bed, kids.” Matt stood and stretched, tossing the controller down. “Getting my ass handed to me four times in a row is enough bruising for my ego. And anyone remember we got a show tomorrow?”

“Er,” Danny said, heading back from the booth in the kitchen. “What about our guests?”

“I’m crashing here,” Allison said. She patted the couch for emphasis.

“And Harry can bunk with me,” Adam shrugged. He was all too pleased with himself and trying not to smile, feeling the glare Harry was sending in his direction. He just had to add on for good measure, “It’s not like we haven’t before.”

“I hardly think that’s appropriate. There were two beds before. And space,” Harry said quickly. “There are two couches here. I can sleep on one of them.”

He was largely ignored.

“Alli’s sleeping on one.” Danny pointed out. “Isn’t there something in the rules about parental supervision?”

“Yeah, isn’t it something like, what’s most inappropriate is Alli sleeping in the same room with a man and no supervision? According to the suits?” Matt said, “Sorry, Harry.”

“She is underage,” Danny said, ruffling a hand through his bedhead.

“Hey, I can take care of myself!” Allison said, indignation infusing her voice. “Like I’d be interested in any of you losers anyway.” They all stared at her in a bit of shock as she wrapped herself in a throw and curled up on the couch. “Besides, mom okayed it. Now you can all get out of my ‘room’ here, before I throw you out.”

“Including me, I suppose?” Harry asked.

“Wouldn’t want to upset the ‘suits’ now would we?” Allison asked, primly.

“Brat,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t want your mom knowing about the alc either.”

“Blackmail?” Allison huffed, “Doesn’t work on me.”

Adam caught Harry’s arm and tugged him toward the bunks. “You know Harry would never tattle on you, Allicat. Especially without evidence.”

“You’re such a—”

“Allicat is an impressionable little teen you shouldn’t go cussing in front of,” Adam cut him off. He grinned when Harry laughed loudly.

“Right. She’s so very impressionable,” Harry said. “I feel the victim to a complex and absurd plot here.”

“Ssshh. Don’t go ruining our sense of accomplishment.” He nodded at the upper bunk, “Up top.”

Harry stared at the space and then him. “You’re kidding, right? I can spend the night in the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time I—”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Seriously, baby, I won’t take advantage. Cross my heart. I’m a gentleman. Usually. Besides, the guys would throw a fucking fit.”

“Seconded.” Matt said immediately from the bed he’d already climbed into. The curtain below Adam’s bed rustled and a crack appeared. Kris’s eyes blinked out at them. “Seriously.”

“And the motion carries.” Danny said as he resettled into his bunk across from them.

“Wipe the smirk off your face,” Harry told Adam. Adam ignored him, smile only growing bigger. He bounced on his heels a little. “My problem has nothing to do with trusting you, just so you know,” He added.

Adam’s smirk melted away. If that wasn’t what bothered Harry… Though he couldn’t ignore the warm feeling at the knowledge Harry trusted him. “What’s the problem then?”

“It’s small,” Harry glanced back up at the cubicle of space.

Adam looked up too. He didn’t really see the problem with that. “I’m good at squishing?”

Harry’s mouth twitched, “It’s small for one person, and there’s two of us.”

“You’re small. I squish. It’s all good,” Adam said. “You want the wall or the edge?”

“Wall.,” he sighed, but started climbing up.

“Wait, you’re sleeping in your jeans?” Adam asked. Talk about uncomfortable.

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Adam, I am not wearing your pajamas. You’re a bloody giant,” Harry said firmly, already settling into the bunk.

“Boxers are fine. Or briefs?” Adam pointed out. Now he was wondering which it was. Boxers or briefs? Wasn’t that the question of the ages.

“Jeans,” Harry said firmly from the dark bunk.

“Are you—”

“Adam,” Harry said.

Adam’s eyes widened. Oh. Oh, Harry was… Fuck, he did not need to know that. There was a sudden coughing fit from one of the beds. Apparently Danny didn’t need to know that either. But Adam thought it was ridiculously hot that Harry went commando.

“‘kay,” Adam cleared his throat. He rustled around in one of his drawers and pulled out his lounge pants. “Be right back then.” He shot a glance back at the bed before vanishing into the bathroom. Under any other circumstances he would probably forgo the gentleman rule and mercilessly feel up Harry.

He was pretty sure if he tried that the others would join together and throw him off the bus, so he saved the plan for another time. Still, it was hard to erase the image of Harry, close to naked and tucked away in his bunk. It felt illicit somehow, even though he’d done far kinkier things. It would be so very easy, run his fingers along the waistband of Harry’s jeans, flick open the button, the zipper, slide his hand long heated skin...

He took longer changing in the bathroom than he should have before finally sneaking out and tiptoeing to bed. The reading light built into the ceiling was glowing gently in the tight space. Harry was on his side, against the wall, arm tucked under his head. And fast asleep.

Adam watched him for a minute before climbing in, snapping the curtain shut and hitting the light. So much for illicit. But he sidled closer nonetheless, arm sliding easily over Harry’s waist. Harry curled in closer, subconsciously hooking a leg over Adam’s, face pressing lightly into his chest.

Okay, so this was even better than illicit bunk sex, Adam thought, already drifting off despite himself. Maybe he’d try Harry in the morning.

\----------

“We’re going on a date?” Harry asked. “When did this happen again?” He accepted the jacket Adam was holding out to him.

“I came up with the idea last night,” Adam said cheerfully. “After the show. In the wee hours of the morning, while working on a song.”

Harry slowly managed to stop staring at him. “A day date.”

“Yep. You’ll love it. We’ll get lunch. Go shopping. Sight see. It’ll be great.” Adam nodded toward the hotel elevators. “You’re not working, I’m not working. Van’s downstairs.”

“You don’t have something you need to urgently get on?” Harry asked skeptically.

Adam’s smile blossomed into a grin, “Just you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He cleared his throat and stared at the carpet for a minute, willing the slowly creeping flush across his cheeks to vanish. He looked back up at Adam determinedly. “I meant your career, not your hobbies.”

Adam shook his head, still grinning, “Conference call tonight with some suits in LA, some talk about getting into a couple studios the second I’m back in the city, that sort of thing. Nothing to do for hours…but you.”

And bloody hell, it was the blush that wouldn’t die. It was the blush Harry could feel close to the surface of his skin any time Adam came within hearing distance. Harry couldn’t think of much else to do but go along and hope he didn’t make an arse of himself. He headed down the hall. “Alright. Sounds like fun.”

Adam froze in his steps before putting on a burst of speed and catching up with him in three long strides. “Wait, just like that? You’re agreeing _just like that_?”

Harry slanted a glance at him. “You want me to argue about it?”

“Yes! Er. No, I thought you would. You always argue,” Adam said thoughtfully. He brightened, “Does this mean you’re giving in to the realization that we belong together?”

“You’re not going to break into some cheesy song, are you?” Harry asked suspiciously. He shrugged his jacket on, wondering how Adam could stand the cooling autumn air in only a t-shirt.

“Only if you want me to.”

“And to answer your question, that would be a no, but it sounds like a bit of fun, and Mer-god knows a few hours away from the insanity would be a blessing.”

“You’re caving,” Adam said happily. He winked and followed Harry’s flushing form into the elevator. “I knew you would. And you can say ‘Merlin.’ I won’t out you to the others.”

“It hardly counts as a date when there’s going to be at least three of us,” Harry finally said as the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to the lobby. “Day dates don’t count in general.”

Adam shook his head, “One, yes, it would be. Two, there’s just going to be the two of us. As in, two people on a normal date. Three, day dates count. Why wouldn’t they? They’re a date, it’s in the name.”

“Wait, no security?” Harry frowned. “We’re going out in public for a prolonged period of time in various locations and Jack isn’t forcing a bodyguard on you?”

Adam led him toward the exit. “You count as security, according to Angie’s latest paperwork, according to security, and, most importantly, according to Jack.” He grinned, “I don’t know what you did to convince him of that, but it’s not like you haven’t played my bodyguard before. I wish you’d play my bodyguard a little more, maybe tonight, in my hotel room—”

Harry snorted, “Try ‘not a chance in hell.’ And what about your stalker? Everyone’s ignoring Bale now?”

“We don’t know he’s mine,” Adam objected immediately, mouth curling in a pout. “He could equally be yours. You’re like the only one he ever let’s see him.”

“I am not his obsession! Bloody hell. Would you let that go already?”

“Not a chance in hell. I have as much right to worry about you as you do me.” He stuck out his tongue, and couldn’t stop the laughter at Harry’s disbelieving expression.

“Sometimes I worry you’re a seven-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body,” Harry griped.

Adam tucked an arm around Harry’s waist as they hit the parking lot. “Only when I’m around other seven-year-olds, baby.”

“You never answered about Bale.” He pushed his weight into Adam’s side briefly, a physical nudge. “I find it hard to believe Jack is fine with this.”

“You’ve been assigned to me and Kris, remember? You’re supposed to come along with me. If we just happen to use that pretense to go on a date… Jack’s fine with it, so relax. Besides, Bale hasn’t been seen for almost a week even though he was showing up at every show and event for, what, a couple weeks before then? It’s weird. Maybe he got bored? Maybe he doesn’t like that we’re on to him?” Adam opened the passenger door of their newly rented van for Harry.

He climbed in reluctantly. “I doubt that’s it.” He’d told Jack he’d seen Bale at the interview a couple days ago, and Jack had passed it onto Angie, Harry knew. They’d discussed telling the Idols, but decided not to worry them with it. According to Angie, this was supposed to be their tour, their ‘careers and passion,’ and they shouldn’t be burdened with this ‘dark shadow of a bastard.’ Harry personally preferred using the argument it was security’s job to worry about it, not the Idols’. In either case, the outcome was the same. Harry felt niggling guilt that maybe he should have confided it to Adam. The rock star was, after all, the object of Bale’s obsession, even if he didn’t want to accept that reality.

“You okay?” Adam paused in adjusting the rearview mirror, glancing over at Harry.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re glaring at the dashboard like it’s insulted your mom,” Adam said. A half-smile curved his mouth. “You’re not going to pick a fight with it, are you?”

Harry’s lips twitched. “No. I’m fine, really, love.”

Adam hummed disagreement, but he slid his seatbelt on and started the car. “Is this about Bale still? It’s fine, Harry. If we get kidnapped and, I don’t know, eaten or whatever, I’ll eat my favorite scarf. And put your seatbelt on.”

Harry put it on automatically. “It’s not.”

Adam pulled out into traffic. When the silence stretched he reached over and fiddled with the radio until Harry swatted his hand away. “Find a rock channel. Maybe some classics.”

“You didn’t plot out mood music?” Harry smirked. “A CD or one of your seduction playlists?”

“I’m not that diabolical,” Adam said. “Who says I have seduction playlists?”

“Anyone who has ever met you.” Harry found a station blaring out Led Zeppelin and stopped on it as Adam hummed appreciatively.

He settled back into the soft leather seat, letting his mind wander. It was calming and still a bit fascinating to Harry to watch Adam drive. The only way he could think to describe it was zen. Adam fell into himself, his whole focus on the road and cars around him. He would sing or tap his fingers along to the radio blaring in the background, and if Adam was in the driver’s seat, the radio was always on. Hell, if Adam got within reaching distance of the tuner, the radio magically turned on.

Now his fingers were tapping against his jeans-clad thigh as Zeppelin faded and the opening chords of some Rolling Stones song came over the speakers. He merged smoothly across the lane and took them left. Harry absently wished he knew where they were going as he glanced out Adam’s window. There wasn’t much of anything, mostly hotels and the nearby stadium centers. Boring, really. Adam was a much more fascinating view, which is why Harry found himself studying Adam’s hands as they gripped the steering wheel, one settled firmly near the top, the other absently stroking the wheel, or flicking a gear, or tapping out beats on his jeans.

“What is it, baby?” Adam asked absently, glancing at him, eyes curious but more focused on their surroundings, completely relaxed.

Harry shook his head, knowing Adam couldn’t see him. “Nothing. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Is this about the date thing?” Adam rested a hand on Harry’s thigh, squeezing slightly. “You were so excited about a date fifteen minutes ago.”

“It’s not a date. It’s a day date, which doesn’t count.” Harry was still working on the reasons why it didn’t count, aside from his stalwart determination for it to simply be that way.

“Do you think you get too caught up in definitions, babe?” Adam sighed, “We could be having so much more fun if you’d relax and trust me a little.”

“I do trust you,” Harry objected. “I’m fine, love. Really, fine. Thinking too loudly.”

“Think a little louder,” Adam said. His thumb was stroking along the inner edge of Harry’s thigh now. “So I can hear too.”

Harry made a little disagreeing noise. He expected Adam wouldn’t want to hear more about Bale. That’s what was really on his mind. Dating and their relationship, whatever it meant, fighting over it didn’t seem that big an issue when Bale was out there, threatening everything.

The way he showed up and the way he vanished.

“Harry?” The hand squeezed his leg. “You still with me? Is this about us? You need to talk to me about this.”

“You really think Bale’s not a problem,” Harry blurted out. Adam actually groaned.

“Seriously getting tired of the way Bale’s popping up in every single conversation. Pain in the ass,” Adam said, tone bordering on bitchy. “If he wasn’t stalking one of us before, his spectre’s doing a bang-up job.”

Harry could work with that, he could fight about that, even if he couldn’t sort out anything else with Adam. “Bale’s a threat. Stalkers can be dangerous and he’s proven he’s willing and able to follow us around the country, at close quarters, with none of us noticing. That doesn’t disturb you?”

“We have an eye on him now. He hasn’t been around in a week. There’s been no creepy letters or dead animals on the buses or in the hotel rooms. He’s a fanatic, so we have a few of those. And he’s probably gone now, scared shitless by you and Jack,” Adam insisted.

Harry chewed on his lip as the car rolled to a stop at a light. “That’s your argument? That he hasn’t been around for awhile? Would you be more wary if he had been?”

He shrugged a shoulder, looking over at Harry. “Possibly? Depends what he did. But he hasn’t.”

It was one of those instantaneous decisions of Harry’s. The ones Hermione hated and Ron loved, the ones without reasoning and with all of Harry’s gut instinct behind them. The ones that usually got him in trouble. “I saw Bale at the radio interview the other day, in Columbus.”

Adam’s hands froze mid tap to the Pink Floyd number on the stereo. He stared at Harry hard. “Did I hear that right?”

Harry met his gaze squarely. “Two days ago. Bale was at that interview.”

“Did he do—”

“He was watching. Ran off when I spotted him. I couldn’t reach him in time,” Harry said. He tugged at his seatbelt, still irritated with himself he’d let that opportunity slip by.

“Excuse me?”

Harry glanced back at Adam, prepared to repeat himself, but the words froze on his tongue at Adam’s expression.

“You went after him? Are you insane? Did anyone _know_?” Adam’s fingers were curling and uncurling against the steering wheel.

“I told Jack.” Harry said after a minute. “Security knows, Angie too. I wouldn’t keep from reporting Bale, Adam. We didn’t want to worry all of you. You have enough going on with the tour.”

Adam’s jaw twitched, clenched tight. “Not what I fucking meant.” His eyes slid shut, brow drawn. “Though I have a few choice words on that too. Fuck! Was anyone with you? When you followed him? At the interview? Shit, Harry! You’re not trying to follow him all the time, are you?”

A horn blasted behind them. Harry glanced back, then forward out the window. “The light’s green.”

“I don’t really give a damn,” Adam snapped, but he stepped on the gas, shooting through the light as fast as a previously idling car could. “Are you chasing him?”

Harry sighed, “I do security. You called me your bodyguard—”

“That’s not the same damn thing and you know it,” Adam said, fingers still gripping the wheel tightly. He growled softly and flicked the radio off in one quick movement.

Harry waited a few minutes, watching Adam brood and fidgeting with his own seatbelt. He suddenly missed Adam’s hand on his leg. It felt like a sharp pain in his gut. “I didn’t expect to see him at the interview, but I tried to follow him,” He said finally. “I’m not going to stand by if there’s something I can do to keep you and the others a little safer.”

Adam didn’t glance at him, simply stared at the road. Harry tried to calm the nerves clawing through his stomach. He couldn’t recall a tenser ride in his life.

“Why didn’t you tell us, if you wanted to keep us safe?”

Before Harry could answer, Adam added,

“And what the fuck makes you think getting yourself killed or kidnapped or whatever is going to make us safer? You don’t just go,” he waved a hand at the windshield, “running off into danger. That’s… God, that’s so stupid.”

“I can handle myself,” Harry said immediately. He hesitated for half a second before he added, “But I am sorry we didn’t tell you. We should have. _I_ should have. That was,”

“Shitty,” Adam supplied.

“Yeah.”

“We have the fucking right to know.”

“You do. I know you do. I wasn’t thinking about that.” And Harry was having hideous flashbacks to his fifth year, Albus, and Sirius. No one trusted him with what he needed to know then and he’d fucked up so badly. He slid a hand over to Adam’s leg tentatively, ignoring the tension in his stomach and in the air. Trying desperately to ignore the memories. He ran his palm along the stiff muscle.

“I am sorry, Adam.” His voice was thicker than he wanted it to be. But the nerves were easing with the simple touch, and he could see Adam relax minutely too. Wide, surprised blue eyes glanced toward him before refocusing on the road.

“It’s not totally okay, Harry,” Adam said insistently, but his grip was easing on the steering wheel. “And fuck, you shouldn’t go chasing Bale—”

“I’m going to stop him,” Harry said. “Whichever of us he’s stalking, I’m going to stop him, Adam.”

There was a deep, frustrated sigh. “Next time you see him, tell me.”

Harry could agree to that, readily. “Promise. Would you please take him more seriously, for my sake?”

Adam snorted, “Will you stop acting like the lone ranger?”

“Who?”

“Ah, television character. A hero who was always running off to save the day,” Adam explained.

Harry made a face, “You all watch too much telly.”

“It’s an American classic!” Adam said. “And you’re not sidetracking me. Stop chasing him. You’re not some superhero who goes rushing off to rescue damsels in distress.”

“What if I am?” Harry asked, tone challenging despite himself. “I could be, what’s his name… Shit… Clark Kent.”

Adam burst out laughing. “Alright, you switch between glasses and contacts like a pro, baby, but that doesn’t mean you vanish off to slay bad guys and, I don’t know, rewind time.” His fingers wound with Harry’s, still pressed lightly against his thigh.

“The rewinding time part is the trickiest,” Harry said cheerfully, relieved the tension had melted from the air, that they were Adam and Harry again, going on some confused day date. “Damsels and slaying’s easier, if you can find a damsel interested in being rescued, who doesn’t start going on about equal rights and holding doors and shit. Same holds for bad guys.”

Adam laughed, “How much experience do you have slaying bad guys again?”

“Some?” Harry said.

Adam huffed, “Keep Bale off your list of accomplishments, would you? Leave it to Jack or, or…”

“Don’t you dare say karma,” Harry said.

“Karma’s the best payback,” Adam said promptly.

“Sometimes karma needs a little help,” Harry said back. “So, are we..?”

Adam paused. “Yeah, we are.”

Harry nodded silently. Good. They were good. The rest of the tension bled out of him.

“I’m still a little pissed.”

“Okay.”

“This is so not ruining our date,” Adam added.

“It’s not a date,” Harry said automatically.

Adam shot him a bullshit look, eyebrow drawn up and lips quirked down. “After that bombshell, I definitely get this one.”

Harry stared incredulously. “It does not work that way!”

“Does.”

“Adam!”

“You know it does,” Adam said.

Harry sputtered.

“So, officially a date.” Adam’s fingers tightened their grip around Harry’s. “And Bale is not going to fucking ruin it. Lunch first?”

\----------

This was his favorite part of the job. He sat there, on stage, plugging in wires in their correct places and making sure everything was hooked up the way it was supposed to be. It was little too close to technology for his comfort, but once he learned what wires plugged into what spots, it was fairly mindless. He could do the work while focusing on something else entirely, not having to worry about making a broken piece of technology magically work again. Half the time he and the rest of the crew used the time to mess around.

Harry was blessedly free from having to actually check any instrument itself. That was too bloody nerve-wracking for him. He didn’t know shit about instruments, and he told the musically inclined that point blank. He wasn’t going to touch the things if he could help it. Half of it was that he was concerned he would make a priceless instrument explode, like the last laptop he’d worked on.

He was just connecting the last of the cords when someone cleared her throat behind him. Harry turned on his knees next to the stereo.

The dark-haired, middle-aged woman smiled down at him, “Harry Grey, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yeah…” Harry stared at her. Her smile was familiar, and her face—oh. “You’re Adam’s mum, aren’t you?”

She looked taken aback. “Yes, I am. How did you know that? We haven’t met, have we? I’m positive we haven’t.”

He smiled apologetically, “Sorry, no, we haven’t. It’s your cheekbones, and your smile. You two look a lot alike.” He stood, brushing his palms off on his jeans before offering his hand. “Um, you know I’m Harry Grey already.”

“I’ll tell Adam the compliment,” she laughed, shaking his hand. “My name is Leila, Leila Lambert.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He glanced down at the speaker, “I need to finish this quickly. Is there something I can help you with?”

She shook her head, “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Adam’s been talking about you so much these days. Since I was visiting I thought it would be nice to chat with you. May I join you while you finish up?”

“Sure. Ah…” He looked around uncertainly. Most everyone else was finished and moving on, caught up in their own work.

“That’s all right, Harry, just finish what you were doing.” Leila settled herself on the floor, crossing her legs and smoothing out her shirt. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You sure?” Harry asked.

“Oh, quite. I’m fine.” She patted the floor.

Harry went back to work, connecting the next set of wires. “I didn’t know you were coming out to the tour. Adam’s usually very, er, exuberant and vocal when it comes to visiting family and friends.”

“This was more of a spur of the moment trip,” Leila said. “I surprised him.”

“Ah. Anything you wanted to talk about in particular? I take it Adam’s busy at that phone conference for the, what was it, the Gaga song?”

She made a noise of agreement before asking, “Have you always worked on tours, Harry? Are you a technician?”

Harry smiled absently, “No. This is mostly new to me, honestly. But I was always good with electronics when I was a kid. My cousin was always breaking his toys. His walkman and video games. His computer. I learned to fix them out of habit mostly,” he chuckled. “Actually, I’m worse with this stuff now than I was back then.”

“Your cousin had his own computer in the, ah,” she looked him over, “eighties? That’s unusual. They were new then.”

“Late eighties.” Harry grinned up at her. “Dudley saw it on the telly and wanted one. Got it for Christmas.”

Leila nodded slowly. “Your family must be well off then. Did you have a computer?”

“No, but I didn’t really want one anyway. They were well off enough, nothing unusual.” His lips quirked, “You might say perfectly normal.”

Leila smiled in response. “So what is it you do then, Harry?”

Harry slid his way over to the base a few feet off. “Lots of odds and ends.” He glanced up at her. “This and that. A bit of everything. What’s the phrase,”

“Jack of all trades,” Leila supplied.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“List a few? Jobs, hobbies even,” Leila asked. “I’m curious.”

“Ah,” Harry frowned. “Technician, roadie, did some sports years ago, driver, waiter, a bit of security work, clerk, bartender, volunteer stuff back in Britain. Tried being an…a policeman.” He grinned, “Dog walker, that was fun. Garden work, lots of that actually, several times in the summer over the last three years. Mechanic, but that was more for me. I wanted to learn about motorbikes. Love gardening and cooking.” He paused, then said, “Huh, funny though, I’ve never worked as chef. I guess it’s never thrilled me, the idea of cooking strictly for others.”

“Do you cook often?”

“Don’t have the time these days,” Harry admitted. He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. “Actually, I haven’t cooked much since I left home.”

“Ah.” Leila offered him one of the last disconnected cords. “I imagine this should be connected to something on the other side?”

“Base, I think, thanks. I don’t pay much attention beyond this.” A brief smile flickered in his eyes before he frowned slowly. “Why’d you want to know about me?”

“Because my son likes you so much,” Leila said blandly. “Can you blame me? Mother’s prerogative.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to blurt out, “We’re just friends.”

Leila looked taken aback, “You’re just friends?”

“Yeah.”

“The way he talks about you, Harry,” Leila started.

“Really just good mates,” Harry said.

Leila shook her head, “Honey, he’s falling for you.”

Harry froze, last wire held loosely in one hand, just staring up at Leila. A panicked haze misted over his brain. “I… He’s just flirting?”

“Harry,” Leila’s tone was gentle. “I know my son’s a big flirt half the time, but he’s told me about you. He’s kissed you, hasn’t he? You two have been on dates?”

Harry’s breathing was coming harder. “Yes,” he croaked out reluctantly, still staring at her with wide eyes.

“Do you think he goes around kissing everyone he meets?”

“He flirts…”

“Flirts, honey. Kissing’s more than that,” Leila said. “And you’ve been on dates, from what I understand.”

“There’s only been one, and it’s not really a date,” Harry tried. He couldn’t quite make that fly though, and he knew it from the arched eyebrow and skeptical look on Leila’s face. The whole ‘date or day date’ argument came back in a rush. Harry really, really couldn’t justify that. Not to Adam’s _mum_. Oh sweet Merlin, Adam’s mum. That entire concept was sinking in a little more.

Mothers were never a particularly good omen for Harry. His stomach clenched around the sudden queasy feeling.

Leila leaned over and patted Harry’s hand. “I don’t know what’s going on, Harry, I only have Adam’s side of things. A few minutes of conversation when we can manage. But I can tell you something definite. Adam’s falling for you.”

Harry stared wide-eyed at her. The wire in his hand sparked blue electricity before bursting into flame. Leila gasped, pulling back and getting up to her feet. Harry looked down at the wiring in shock, gripping the cord tighter before throwing it away from them both. By the time he stood Leila was already dashing off, alerting the nearest crewmember of the fire.

Harry had to forcibly stop himself from putting it out with a thought and a word. Brian came running, fire extinguisher in hand. It was out a second later.

“Harry?” Leila’s hand rested on Harry’s arm. He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Are you?”

“Of course,” she frowned, peering into his face. “You weren’t shocked? I think you should see the medic, have a quick check-up.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine, really.” Harry looked around, looking for any escape. He knew mothers, and he knew how persistent they could be. He didn’t feel like seeing a medic because he’d caused a bit of accidental magic. And he didn’t quite feel like trying to explain why a wire suddenly burst into flame in his hands to said medic. And he really didn’t feel like explaining his relationship with Adam to Leila.

Up high, in the balcony seats, someone was staring down at them. Harry squinted up. Maybe Jack was running through the security check again. Maybe Harry could beg off with Leila by helping out with that. The figure moved back into the shadows. Harry took a step forward, as if that would stop the person from moving, squinting harder. It clicked in Harry’s head. That wasn’t security, that was Bale.

Bale was in the theatre.

As excuses worked, Harry thought, that was a bloody good one.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Lambert, I have to…go…do something.” Harry made his way to the stairs beside the stage, dashing down them. “It was lovely meeting you,” he called over his shoulder.

As he ran off he dialed Jack’s number, the first number on his speed dial. No one answered. It took him three minutes to wind his way through the amphitheatre and dash upstairs. Every second he was mentally berating himself for not seeing Bale sooner. How long had he been hiding in the shadows upstairs?

When he got up there, he swore to himself. Bale was nowhere to be seen. He called Jack again, slowly walking down the aisle of seats.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Jack.” Relief filled his mind. “I saw Bale.”

“ _Where are you, Harry?_ ” Jack asked.

“First balcony in the theatre,” Harry said. “I was down on stage helping to set up. He’s gone, Jack.”

“ _We’ll do a sweep. Anyone with you?_ ”

“No, just me.”

“ _Then get your ass back downstairs immediately._ ”

Harry chuckled without mirth. “Hell no. I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s not here.” He could practically hear Jack’s scowl.

“ _Then you will not hang up this phone until someone from security’s glued to your ass, got it?_ ”

“Better bring some glue. I’m fresh out.” Harry headed along to the walls, staring into every shadow, peering down rows of seats. There was nothing. “But I think he’s gone, Jack. He saw me spot him from the stage.”

There was no sign of him.

He hung up his mobile absently, not really noticing Jack’s chatter or the way his mobile started buzzing almost immediately in his hand. He walked slowly past more rows before cutting across to the left side aisle. He pushed open a few of the heavy doors blocking the main hallway or the stairwells into private boxes.

There was well and truly nothing.

“Harry!” It was Jack’s voice. He was storming toward him, face darkened with anger. “What part of ‘do not hang up this phone’ failed to sink into that thick skull of yours?”

Harry kicked a seat in irritation, watching as Mark and three other security guards began winding their way down the side aisles, going up into the private boxes and checking in all the shadows. He knew they wouldn’t find any. “It’s annoying, Jack.”

“Having people asking you to refrain from doing stupid things?” Jack snapped. “Come on, the boys here are checking the floor. Let’s go see if Bale waltzed out of here before our very eyes on the camera feeds.”

“Bale. The way he vanishes. It’s not natural.” He trailed after Jack’s retreating form, following him down the dim and curving stairwell to the main level.

“You’re not the only one who finds it frustrating. Gets under your skin. Don’t let it mess with your head, Harry. He’s got a trick up his sleeve we haven’t sussed out yet. We’ll get him,” Jack said. He sounded comfortingly assured. Harry was not nearly so confident.

“It’s not natural,” he repeated.

Jack slanted a glance back at him. “How so?”

Harry sighed. He couldn’t make it any clearer without going into some top secret, ‘mind the red tape’ shit. “He just vanishes.”

“What, like a wizard? Magic?” Jack chuckled.

“Sort of like,” Harry sighed. Bale didn’t have a drop of magic in him, from all Harry’s senses could tell, but Merlin. Bale was unnatural. Harry would swear there was something magical about him. Only, if Bale was somehow a wizard, that turned everything on its head.

Jack was shaking his head. Before he had the chance to respond, a familiar voice was ringing out from the bottom of the stairs.

“What’s magic?” Adam was standing there, his mum half tucked behind him. Harry thought it was sweetly protective, because Adam wasn’t an idiot, he had to know the ruckus was for Bale. His next words confirmed Harry’s suspicions. “Mom said Harry freaked about some guy upstairs? I tried to follow you guys up, but sweet Anderson here insisted my brilliant and shining company remain with him.”

Leila shook her head and squeezed Adam’s arm. “I was under the distinct impression Andy here was interested in my company, not yours.”

Anderson chuckled, “I’d have to agree with that assessment, Mrs.—Leila, pardon.”

Adam was trying to pout and failing miserably as he laughed at their antics. “Since I’m being insulted here and denied the use of the balcony, I think it’s time for lunch. Mom promised me an amazing lunch. If we’re done with our witch hunt.”

“Witch hunt?” Harry jumped at the phrase, more paranoid than he wanted to admit.

Adam’s eyebrow arched up at Harry’s tone, alarmingly reminiscent of his mother’s own, “You okay, baby?”

“Witch hunt,” Harry prompted again. “Who said anything—”

Adam spoke simultaneously, “Not meant in the traditional sense? I didn’t mean you imagined Bale upstairs or anything. The fuck just keeps vanishing, like a witch.”

Jack snorted, “Harry was saying the exact same thing on our way down. He’s not some mystical phantom, kids. But I would like to finish running a check on the place before Bale has a chance to get too far. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Harry sincerely doubted it.

“Do you need Harry?” Adam asked. “I heard a rumor he was coming to lunch.”

Leila smiled at his side and spoke to Harry. “I was going to ask you to join us, before the to-do started.”

Adam stepped forward and hooked arms with Harry. “You’re not saying no.” He gave Jack a look that challenged him to defy him. When Jack held up his hands in defeat Adam grinned smugly, laced his fingers with Leila’s, and began urging them both toward the exit. “Mom, you said there was a nice restaurant nearby? Harry, you’ll love mom. She has the funniest stories of pot in the seventies—”

“Oh god, Adam,” Leila groaned.

“Actually, Jack and I were going to look over camera—” Harry started.

“Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll manage,” Jack called after their retreating forms. “You don’t know any more than I do in this case.” Harry wanted to curse the man.

\----------

“What?” Adam asked sleepily, hands sliding up along Harry’s ribcage. He tightened his grip, “Harry? Wait, _what_? What are you doing? You’re here… You want to..?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Harry hummed, nuzzling into Adam’s neck. He licked delicately behind Adam’s ear. Adam pulled in a shuddering breath.

“Then…” Adam felt more confused than he ever recalled being. Then again, he was pretty sure he was half asleep and this could be some fabulous hallucination. Only he was slowly waking up and it was hard not to notice the real, heavy weight of Harry’s nude body settled over his, or the strong scent of vodka and whiskey on Harry’s breath.

“I just figured it out.” Harry trailed kisses along Adam’s jaw. “You only think you want me, but you don’t really. So if you get what you want you’ll work out that you don’t really want it after all. Then things will go back to the way they’re supposed to be. Get it?”

“…no.” Adam frowned sleepily. “Fuuuuck,” he bit out as Harry nipped at his nipple.

This was, this was really good, Adam thought. Bad. It was really bad. He tried to push his brain into working and did the first thing that seemed sensible. Adam tucked one arm around Harry’s waist, braced them both with his feet and other arm, and flipped them.

Now he was more awake and reality was finally sinking in. He grabbed Harry’s arms, fingers sliding loosely along until he hit Harry’s wrists. He tightened his grip. “Arms up,” he ordered, tugging gently until Harry’s hands slid through the cheap wooden slats of the headboard. He squeezed gently. “Stay.”

Then he slid off the bed, hunting for the tie he knew he had somewhere in his bags. When he turned back around Harry was sitting up, confusion written across his features. He tried not to think about how insanely sexy it was, the way Harry sat there naked and oblivious, comfortable enough in his own skin not to care that Adam was looking over every inch of bare flesh. And Adam was.

“Adam, what..?”

Adam climbed back on the bed, straddling Harry’s thighs and pushing him back down. “Hands.”

Harry stared, realization dawning. He hesitated. Adam could tell from the suspicious, belligerent expression that bondage was not on Harry’ agenda tonight.

He pushed Harry on a little. “You want to fuck?” At Harry’s determined expression, he shifted his hips down against his unexpected partner. “Then hands up.”

Adam had to admit to himself he was more than a little surprised when Harry reluctantly lifted his hands above his head, sliding them around one of the slats of the headboard. “Then what?” Harry asked archly.

Adam smiled mischievously, “What do you think, baby?” He slid the silk tie around Harry’s wrist, then the slat, then his other wrist, looping back and tying it neatly. After surveying his handiwork for a minute he nodded to himself and shifted down Harry’s body. He leaned down slowly, studying Harry’s face before dropping a kiss on his mouth. “Too tight?”

“No.” Harry pushed his hips up into Adam. “Fuck me.” That determined edge was returning stronger than ever.

Adam pulled back a little, hovering barely a foot above Harry, his forearms resting to either side of Harry’s head, bracing him. Shit, he was hard as hell, and Harry was _right there_ aroused and eager and _available_ , but… He shook his head, “No, baby.”

The shock that passed across Harry’s face would have been comical in any other situation. “What?”

“No, I’m not going to fuck you,” Adam said.

Their hips were pressed tightly together. Harry ground upward. “Why not?” He was pissed.

Adam groaned, leaned down and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Because you’re not here, Harry.” At Harry’s sharp intake he rolled his hips forward, “Your body’s here, and your stupid, annoying-as-fuck stubbornness, and your friend, alcohol, but the rest of you… When I fuck you, you’re going to _be here_. With me.”

Harry took a shuddering breath, trying to stay in control. “I. Am. Right. Here.”

Adam kissed him gently before sitting up. “Biggest load of crap I’ve heard all summer.”

Harry pressed up as hard as he could. “You are not bloody leaving it like this.”

Adam wasn’t sure what he was talking about, them or his cock or this completely failed attempt at…whatever this was. Adam hadn’t the faintest fucking clue what Harry was thinking when he snuck into his room. He looked down at him thoughtfully. “I can get you off, baby,” he said after a minute. “But we’re not having sex.”

Harry growled, “You fucking annoying, idiotic, oblivious arse—” His voice faltered to a stop as Adam’s hand slid down, wrapping around Harry’s attentive dick.

“You were saying?” His eyes were dark, pupils blown open, watching Harry writhe and buck upward with lust.

“Fuck you,” Harry groaned, thrusting up helplessly.

Adam leaned down slightly. His hips and fucking _aching_ cock pressed down into Harry despite himself. “Not tonight, baby.” He slid his hand along Harry’s cock faster, biting his lip against the friction, because they weren’t prepared enough for this. He could almost feel what Harry was feeling, whimpering and moaning beneath him. Full on lightning strikes of pleasure hitting him, little sparks of pain at the friction from the lack of lube. The coiling of pleasure building low in his belly, his balls drawing up tight… His breath caught. He was hard and fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Harry was right here under him. He slid his thumb over the tip of Harry’s cock, swiping up the precome. Harry convulsed and came with a yell, fingers scrabbling at the headboard uselessly.

Most of Adam’s body was screaming flat out that it was all over way too fast. What was left of his melted brain was relieved it slid over them so damn quickly. But what he wouldn’t give to watch Harry writhe like that, see exactly what he looked like while Adam teased him and took him apart, stretched and fucked him until he was screaming for it. He stared down as Harry panted, practically melting into his bed. He bit his lip. He wanted… Oh fuck, how he wanted… He slid off Harry, rolling off the bed quickly and slamming into the bathroom. It would be so damn easy to just…go to town on that man, the asshole he wanted so badly.

He looked at himself in the mirror, frazzled and panting and hard as hell. He groaned and slid his hand around his dick, leaning against the counter. His eyes slid shut as he moved his hand, working his cock and imagining it was someone else’s hand entirely. Someone else’s fingers sliding roughly up and down his already too-hard prick. He came, caught somewhere between relief and frustration.

\----------

Harry had caught his breath and his brain was returning to something like normal. Inebriated, but normal. Maybe the adrenaline was even burning away some of the alcohol. He tugged uselessly at the tie still holding him to the bed. It was definitely not the first time Adam had tied someone up.

He glanced at the bathroom door, swallowing hard. A ball of nerves and worry settled in his stomach. Adam had nearly stormed into the bathroom, and what if he was pissed? Or really it was a matter of _how_ pissed he was. Harry wanted to get the fuck out of there. Or go check on Adam. Or go check on Adam and then get the hell out of there. The third option felt like the best combination of Gryffindor bravery and drunken cowardice.

Would Adam come back out at all? Would he want Harry to be gone? But hell, how could he? He could barely shift his wrists. Adam couldn’t expect Harry to show himself out.

Five minutes later the door slid open slowly. Harry would say ‘calmly’ if a door could open calmly. Adam walked out, naked and … he was definitely calm. Some of the tenseness eased out of Harry. Adam wasn’t pissed anyway, that was a good sign. Most of the nerves still twisted in his belly. He wanted to say something, but what? It felt like his voice was jammed tightly, stuck in his throat.

Adam climbed onto the bed, onto Harry, settling over his legs comfortably. He slid a damp washcloth over Harry’s stomach and carefully along his crotch before tossing it to the floor. Harry only watched him, could only watch him. He still couldn’t think of a thing to say, and his voice still felt trapped inside him anyway.

Adam’s hands finally stilled to rest loosely on Harry’s hips. He was staring at Harry, silent and thoughtful, chewing on his bottom lip.

Harry tugged uselessly on his restraint again, wanting to move. To do something. “Adam…” He tried and trailed off uselessly.

That seemed to trigger Adam into movement. He sighed deeply and shifted upward, bowed over Harry. He pressed his forehead into Harry’s once more. “Baby, why do you keep doing this?”

Harry swallowed, “Doing what?”

“ _This_ ,” Adam said. “Fighting us. Making this so fucking hard.”

“I’m not…” Harry shuddered slightly. “This isn’t… Mer—God—”

“Merlin,” Adam said. “It’s just us.”

Harry shook his head, “Adam, I’m so wrong for you. Why don’t you get that?”

Adam pressed closer, dropping a kiss against his cheek. “You’re perfect for me, Harry. You won’t bother to see that, trying so hard to _make_ yourself wrong for me.” He slid back down Harry, sitting up properly and taking to studying him once more. “This proves it, doesn’t it.” He rubbed his thumb across Harry’s hip absently.

Harry fought down the slight edge of panic. “What do you mean?”

Adam hummed, that lazy, confident smile coming back to him. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have something to prove about us.”

“You’re reading that a bit backwards.” Harry meant for that to come out incredibly biting. Somehow it ended up plaintive more than anything. His breath caught as Adam squeezed his hip slightly.

“You know…” Adam’s eyes traveled down Harry’s body.

“You know?” Harry tugged his wrists again, uselessly. Every instinct in him was telling him he needed to be able to move, to get away or fight back or _something_. “Untie me?”

Adam glanced back up at his face briefly before switching his attention back down Harry’s body. “I don’t think so.” He wiggled down slowly, resettling between Harry’s legs, pushing them open until he could bend over, lick and suck at Harry’s lightly haired thigh.

He pushed Harry’s legs slightly wider, tilting his head to the side. He sucked on the delicate skin of Harry’s inner thigh, sucking harder and then lapping his tongue across the abused skin. He had to know perfectly well it would darken into a bruise. It had to be exactly what he wanted. He slid up a little, nipping and sucking at Harry’s hip. Harry shuddered beneath him, breath coming in ragged gasps. It dawned on him Adam was marking him, territory claimed. He wondered if Adam could feel the little moans he couldn’t hold back despite biting the inside of his cheek. He pushed up against the exploring mouth.

Adam moved up further, apparently satisfied Harry’s hip would bear a mouth-shaped bruise. He bit gently at Harry’s ribcage, leaving another hickey. And then moved up higher, nuzzling at Harry’s neck before biting the curve of neck and shoulder.

Harry twisted his head to the side, unsure if he was trying to get away or bloody give Adam better access. He bit his lip hard to keep from swearing, tugging roughly at the headboard.

Adam pulled back once more, surveying his work and humming happily. He slid off, curling at his side, sliding an arm over Harry’s chest. “I think I’ll keep you.”

Harry huffed. “Fuck, untie me now, would you? Why don’t you bloody scrawl your name across my forehead and get it over with?”

It was almost instantaneous. Adam sat up and stared down at Harry.

“…what?” Harry asked warily.

“That’s a good idea.”

Harry frowned, “What is?”

Adam grinned and climbed off the bed. He dug through his belongings. “Ah, here it is!” He jumped back in the bed, still grinning.

“Here what is?” But he could see the dim outline of a marker clutched in Adam’s hand. Harry had a bad feeling about this.

He uncapped his sharpie, settling himself over Harry’s torso. “Signing you.” He studied Harry’s stomach for a brief second before settling his left arm on Harry’s belly, bracing him to keep him from moving too much. He carefully signed his name on Harry’s hip, right across the hickey, the tail end climbing up his side. He leaned back and studied his work. “That…is fucking hot, baby.”

Harry was gaping at him. “I don’t believe you bloody did that.”

“It was your idea.” Adam tossed the pen on the floor in the general direction of his bag and resettled himself at Harry’s side. He carefully avoided Harry’s hip, to keep from smearing the ink before it dried.

“You bloody bastard.”

He stroked Harry’s stomach. “Bitch about it in the morning, hmm?” He dropped a kiss against Harry’s hair.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” Harry snapped.

“Nah, it’d be nice if you spent the night,” Adam said.

“Adam!”

“Night, Harry.”

Harry squirmed, but Adam’s fingers only squeezed at his side gently. Harry slowly relaxed back into the bed, realizing it was pointless to yank at restraints that weren’t budging, and wondered how the hell his plan to show Adam how incredibly bad they would be together backfired so horrendously.

He swore off mini bottles of vodka then and there.

\----------

It was something like waking to find you’d been so drunk you went to bed under a park bench without realizing it. Or a lunatic was hovering over you with a wand to your head. Or someone had tied you to your bed. It was pure disorientation, the worst feeling one could wake up with, in Harry’s experience.

It was just a feeling as Harry slowly pulled himself up from the depths of dreams. He tried to shift, frowning groggily and cracking open still exhausted eyelids. The room was pitch dark, though he could see the glowing, incredibly fuzzy red numbers of a clock a few feet off. He squinted. It was just past seven. He shut his eyes against the bright numbers and dull ache in his head. He couldn’t bring himself to move, though it felt more like he couldn’t move whatever his inclination, and he couldn’t gather why.

Slowly the soft, damp, steady breath of someone just at his back sunk into his brain. Surely he’d known he wasn’t alone the entire time. He just didn’t realize it until this second. He forcibly quelled the spike of alarm. The adrenaline hurt his head.

Last night began filtering back to him in some grotesque, rapid, nonlinear procession. Stress and work. Adam walking naked around his hotel room, some sense of watching him helplessly. Leila Lambert and alcohol and frustration. Bale hovering in the shadows.

Then that one moment that spiraled all the other memories back into place slid calmly into view. That one moment standing in his own hotel room, abusing the mini-bar more than management would approve of and contemplating the fact that Leila Lambert, of all people, thought he would be good for her son. She’d intimated as much at lunch.

Jack had tacitly done the same by _letting_ Harry go with them to lunch.

And Adam fucking ‘I’m going to get everything I want’ Lambert, not getting it through his thick head in the slightest. Not realizing the obvious, that Harry had issues and secrets, and really wasn’t good for anyone at all. Not himself even, and certainly not for Adam.

Harry realized he had to prove it to him, in those dark, alcohol saturated hours just past midnight. It was the only way to get Adam to stop, to make him see sense. It only seemed logical that giving Adam what he wanted, with all its messiness and insanity, would get his point across. Harry would climb into bed with him. Then Adam would get the damn bug out of his system and finally work out the heart of the matter. He’d figure out he didn’t really want Harry, which suited Harry just fine. The universe would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

Harry would be a loner. He would travel from one dead-end job to another. He would not fall in love with some opinionated, self-assured, idiot rock star.

He suspected the two miniature bottles of brandy, one of tequila, and two of vodka had a large hand in helping him resort to this plan.

Which had failed miserably. Of course it would have. Plans never went the way they were supposed to. He was Harry bloody Potter, champion of ineffective plans. Because now he realized where he was. It only made sense he’d feel stiff and locked into place. He was tied to a bed. Adam’s bed. The bastard tied him to it last night. Harry _let_ him.

Adam was sleeping, snoring lightly and occasionally snuffling at his side, arm still tucked over his waist, over Harry’s own arm and down his stomach, fingers caught between Harry’s hip and the mattress.

Wait. Adam’s arm was draped over _his_ arm? Harry drew a slow, deep, confused breath. He tried to mentally clear the cobwebs from his mind and took account of himself. No, he was not still tied to the bed. When did that happen? He desperately tried to recall. When the hell had Adam untied him? Had he untied him? He must have. Or, shit, Harry hadn’t done a bit of accidental magic, had he? That alarm was edging back into his mind. Could he even do that? Could he perform accidental magic in a drunken sleep? No, no, no, it had to be Adam.

It had to be Adam.

Harry tensed. His head throbbed. He tried not to think about everything that could possibly go wrong in the next few hours. Adam could have not untied him, leaving an awkward conversation about how Harry’s arms were no longer strapped to the headboard. Adam could ask what the hell Harry had been thinking. He could pry Harry’s reasons from him and refute them all. He had the annoying habit of doing that.

This was so bloody fucked up.

He really hoped Adam wouldn’t wake up for awhile. He needed to think. He needed to, Merlin forbid, plan. He needed to not have the conversation Adam would undoubtedly want to have.

And he needed some bloody aspirin.

Adam cleared his throat and shifted behind him, bare chest pressing in closer against Harry’s back and arm tightening around his waist. Heat radiated from Adam, washing over Harry like an oven. Harry tensed even more, surprised that he could. He thought his muscles were as taut and stressed as they could get.

“Jesus, Harry.” Adam’s nose pressed against his scalp, words slurred from sleep and muffled against his hair. “Would you relax? You feel hard as a board.” Then a smile formed on the mouth pressed against his head and Adam wiggled a little. “Maybe you are?”

He swatted the suddenly wandering hand creeping down his belly. “‘m not.” The hand kept moving, so Harry caught it up in his own, their fingers lacing together naturally.

The smile broadened. Adam pushed in closer. “Knew you were awake.”

Oh, if that was ever a trap. Blast. “You have no sense of fair play,” Harry complained.

“With you fair play isn’t a practical option,” Adam said.

Harry tried hard not to enjoy the rough, sleepy rasp of his voice. He freed his arm and squirmed determinedly toward the edge of the bed. Adam, somehow, followed him without apparent difficulty.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Adam said, still sleepy and yet still more awake than Harry felt. The arm was firm around his waist.

“I have to take a piss,” Harry said, half turning to look at his bed partner, or the fuzzy, blurred but recognizable shape of his bed partner.

A pout traced its way across Adam’s face, but his grip loosened. “Oh. ‘Kay. But you’re staying?”

“Yeah.” He wondered if Adam meant for that to come off as a question. As he slid into the bathroom and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand – thank Merlin he had enough sense to put them on the nightstand – he felt guilty for that brief spark of vulnerability in him, knowing he put it there. Adam never bloody deserved that.

He used the loo and washed his hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He tried to identify any redeeming quality Adam seemed to see. He didn’t think he was a bad bloke, as things went. He knew he was a good person. Experience taught him that. Experience also taught him he was a shit boyfriend. He was fairly sure any and all past lovers wanted to tattoo ‘doesn’t play well with others’ across his back.

He jerked toward the door as something thumped against it.

“Do I even want to know what’s taking you so long?” Adam’s voice was muffled through the door. “You better not be jacking off.” There was a short pause. “And I know you’re off the toilet because I heard the sink, so get your ass back out here.”

Harry smiled despite himself and opened the door. “Bloody impatient,” he said and promptly tripped over something on the floor. Something that hadn’t been there five minutes ago. “A pillow? You threw a bleedin’ pillow at the door?”

Adam was sitting up in bed and grinning, sheets and duvet pooled in his lap as he sat cross-legged. He propped his elbows on his knees. “Worked, didn’t it?”

“Right.” Harry stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed, what to say or what Adam wanted to say. It took him a few minutes to realize Adam was looking him over with an incredibly curious, intent look to his face. Then he remembered he was stark naked.

There was the bloody blush that came whenever he was with Adam. He looked around blankly for his clothes, ignoring Adam’s still studying gaze and his slowly flushing body. He couldn’t find them.

Oh, Merlin. Oh, fuck. God, please, please say he had not come here naked last night. If there was any god in the universe, he had not walked three floors drunk and naked. Surely there would be complaints and people pounding down the door if he had? He couldn’t have—

There were a pair of jeans lying carelessly just inside the door. His. He could tell from the white paint stained permanently below one knee. He grabbed them up and slid them on, noticing and ignoring a grey t-shirt and pile of items next to them: keys, hotel cards, mobile, the lip gloss Lil had forced on him.

Adam made a noise of dissent from the bed. Harry ignored that too, but headed to the bed anyway, climbing onto the end and settling in. “Should we order coffee? Breakfast?”

Adam looked him over, “And be disturbed?”

“What are they going to disturb? It’s not like we’re going to fuck,” Harry said brusquely.

A delicate black eyebrow went up. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

Harry went dark red. So they were jumping right into things then. Merlin, he could use a coffee. And then he thought to ask, “Do you have aspirin?”

Adam blinked at him.

“My head,” Harry elaborated. “A wee bit hung over.”

Adam tried to hide his smile as he reached over to one of the nightstands and grabbed a bottle off it, tossing it to him. “Not that you don’t deserve it.”

Harry swallowed two and tossed the bottle back.

“So did you mean to change the subject that spectacularly, or was that a coincidence of your hangover?” Adam asked, still smiling and far too amused about all this in Harry’s opinion.

“Why aren’t you…” Harry waved at him vaguely.

Adam was frowning again. “Are you always this articulate in the mornings, baby?”

Any remaining words died in his throat. He stared at Adam helplessly. He studied the bright blue eyes, freckles, and the night’s stubble along his jaw and chin, distracted and definitely trying to not think about last night. Or explaining last night. “Um.”

“Oh my god,” Adam’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You are.” A hand ran through his hair restlessly. “You are not getting out of this.”

“I’m not trying to,” Harry said. It was a barefaced lie and he was sure they both knew it. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Angry?” Adam said. “Why would I be?”

Harry blinked. “Because I’m a tosser?”

Adam laughed. He edged forward, the bedding dragging with him and piling up between them. Harry eyed him questioningly, but Adam simply grabbed up his hands. “You are a fucking tosser, but I’m not mad. Let’s just talk about it, okay?”

“How are you not mad?” Harry asked. He was outraged on Adam’s behalf, against himself. Surely the man was not that thick. “I was a complete—”

“Twat, I know,” Adam said. “An adorable one, though.”

Harry’s mouth clicked shut.

“So?” Adam’s hands squeezed his own. “I’m massively confused and an explanation on why you’re so keen on sabotaging our relationship would be nice right about now.”

Harry blinked slowly. He wanted to tug his hands free, and didn’t want to at the same time. He knew he would have to tell the truth. He couldn’t lie to Adam. Especially about them. …was there a ‘them?’ He took a deep breath, then said, “I wanted to make you see sense.” He almost asked, ‘Is there an ‘us?’ Somehow he didn’t think it was fair to spring that question though.

Adam waited a full minute. “See sense. About what?” He asked finally.

Harry wanted to wave between them, because words felt too difficult, but his hands were still caught in Adam’s larger ones, and he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “About us.” ‘About us’ meant there was an ‘us,’ and Harry had just verbally acknowledged that. He wondered if Adam noticed. No, he was sure Adam noticed. He had the annoying habit of jumping on those details.

“About us,” Adam said. His voice carried no inflection and Harry found himself trying to read the carefully neutral expression without success. But Adam didn’t elaborate, simply sat there, watching Harry with nothing to say.

“Yes,” Harry said, hoping that would prompt him. It didn’t. He fidgeted, tried to twist his fingers into the sheets and only remembered they were still tangled with Adam’s own when his grip tightened, keeping Harry from distracting himself. Harry started babbling. “It made sense last night, alright? You’re so damn pushy about us, about dating me, and I don’t know _why_. And then your mum,”

“My mom?” Adam asked incredulously. His fingers tightened briefly around Harry’s before relaxing. “At lunch? You don’t like her? I thought you two got along like a house on fire.”

Harry could see the worry and unhappiness flowing off Adam. “Your mum is lovely, you idiot,” he said with exasperation. “I’m not. It’s not that,” he sighed heavily.

“But something bothered you,” Adam prompted, intent.

Harry breathed in slowly, trying to think how to explain best. He wanted to panic, but breathing and looking at Adam, worried and upset, somehow calmed his nerves. “It’s what she said. The way you look at me. It’s like you don’t see how messed up I am. How could you miss that? You’re not an idiot, but _Merlin_ , you can be so thick, and last night I wanted you to _understand_ —I still want you to understand,”

“You’re protecting me?” Adam said suddenly, eyes flashing with sudden insight.

Harry froze, shocked. He hadn’t quite thought of it that way, but, “Ye-es, I am.”

“From yourself?” Adam asked.

Harry hesitated before saying, “I’m aware that might sound absurd—”

“That you’re protecting me from yourself?” Adam snorted. “Not at all.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Look, I’m not—”

“You like to do that, don’t you?” Adam shook his head. He seemed annoyed.

“Do what?” He thought through his last few remarks. Nothing struck him as unusual.

“Protecting. Protecting me, others.” Adam rubbed his hand roughly through his hair, shaking out the short locks. “It’s what you’re always doing. What you always seem to be thinking about. From Bale, from fans, from media, from you.” Then those piercing blue eyes pinned him in place with a stare. “You need to knock that off. I don’t need protecting.”

Harry objected so fast, he was sure Adam’s head spun. Harry’s did, in any case. “You’re joking. Nothing about your lifestyle—”

A hand covered his mouth. Adam looked more than a little irritated now. “I chose this. Fame and attention and even stalkers, if they crop up. I’m aware I may need a bodyguard for that. I don’t need you to protect me. _You_ , Harry. It is not your personal job or your mission or whatever. I can look after myself, and when I can’t, I’ll hire someone to pick up the slack. You, I need you to ease off.”

“You don’t want me,” Harry translated.

Adam jerked back as though Harry hit him. He blinked rapidly. “That’s not— Fuck, what does that have to do with _wanting_ you?”

Harry frowned, stared in confusion before it dawned on him. “I meant,” he said carefully, “you don’t want my help.”

“You _said_ that I don’t want _you_ ,” Adam said. He had that firm tone of voice that drove Harry mad, the one that said he wasn’t letting this go, even if in Harry’s opinion there was nothing to pick at. “Wanting _you_ and wanting your _protection_ are two different things, Harry.”

Harry smiled wryly, “I know that, Adam.”

His eyebrow was arching up skeptically. “I’m not sure you do, baby. Fuck, that’d explain a lot.”

That was annoying. One misspoken sentence and Adam figured he had it all worked out? Harry leaned forward, poking his finger into Adam’s chest. “I am aware of the difference. I do not have some complex.”

Adam met his stare squarely. “You’re always running, you don’t want to open up to me or anyone else, even though we’re your friends. I’m _more_ than your friend, and don’t even try to deny it. You’re always thinking about what you have to keep me safe from. Just, stop. Sit here and _be_ with me.”

“You’re too good for me,” Harry said quietly.

Adam’s jaw clenched and he let out a little growl. “I do not need you to protect me, Harry!”

This time it was Harry who pulled back. He finally tugged his hands free from Adam’s. “Would you please—”

“It’s your turn to listen, honey,” Adam said. He edged closer. Harry held his ground, determined to meet Adam’s angry glare, not sure why. To prove something. He couldn’t move back even if he’d wanted to or he’d fall straight off the bed. The sheets bunched tightly between them. He felt Adam’s knee as it pressed against his shin, padded by the bedding.

Adam leaned in until their noses were inches apart, impatiently brushing away the hair that fell across his eyes. “I am a grown man. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions and dealing with whatever consequences. I’ve been doing it for years. Sometimes my decisions suck and hurt. Sometimes I pick the most unbelievable and amazing path. But I can work it out myself. You do not need to guard me against life.”

Harry stared wide-eyed. He felt that familiar, tight knot of panic forming in his stomach. He knew he was backing into a corner. He knew he would have to keep confessing until it all came out. “I’m a horrible person,” Harry said. When Adam started to object with that intense, determined glare Harry stopped him. “No. I am. I’ve done awful things and I don’t let people get close because it’s safer that way, and I’m horrible, I’d be so bad for you, and I really want you to… want me. And that’s horrible too.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off him with those words, even though his stomach was plummeting. He dropped his gaze from Adam’s, unable to stand staring at the surprised, blank expression.

Adam shifted around again, but Harry stared at his lap until the hands slid into view before cupping his face. He pulled Harry closer until his lips pressed against Harry’s brow, soft and warm. He leaned his forehead against Harry’s own. “Harry, you fucking moron.”

“Well, those are encouraging words,” Harry said dryly. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

Adam snorted, breath puffing along Harry’s cheeks and mouth. One hand dropped down to pet along Harry’s side, the other still cupping his jaw, thumb stroking lazily under one ear. “You’re way better than you think you are. You deserve to be loved. To have someone love you. And you know what?” Adam pulled back. “I deserve the chance to love you, so you’re going to knock this ‘I need to protect you from myself’ bullshit off, right?”

Harry stared, shocked, and couldn’t help but wonder, “It doesn’t bother you? I tell you I’ve done horrible things and you don’t even ask? Shouldn’t that be something that worries you?”

Adam huffed a little, “I’m not going to push you for answers. When you’re ready to talk about it you’ll tell me.” There was no accusation to his behavior, only curiosity, a light in his eyes, questioning but accepting at the same time. That confused the hell out of Harry.

“And we’re—”

Adam groaned as his mobile began ringing. “Ignore that. You were saying?”

Harry’s mobile went off. He shook his head and smiled at Adam’s displeased expression. If he were ruler of the world, Harry was quite sure Adam would ensure mobiles would come equipped with immediate destruction options in case of unfortunate interruption.

“I think we’ll have to get those,” Harry said as the mobile went silent. No sooner had the words left his mouth then Adam’s mobile went off again. Then Harry’s. Adam’s shoulders slumped, but he fell back on the bed and fumbled for his mobile on the nightstand. Harry watched as Adam’s long and naked form stretched across the bed. He was sure it was miles of never-ending legs and torso, dusted with freckles and pale ginger hair. And Merlin, there was a reason behind Adam’s sexual confidence, if his leather pants hadn’t given that one away already. He slowly gazed up his body, enjoying the view and really suddenly cursing the ringing as much as Adam was. When his eyes finally trailed over the smooth, working throat and up he realized Adam was watching him. Open amusement and interest lay across his face, eyes glittering, and bloody hell, Adam was _flushed_. A pleased smile quirked his mouth as he answered the ringing and greeted the person on the line.

Harry bit back a groan and wiggled from under the pile of blankets before slipping off the bed. He picked up his belongings, mobile still ringing. It was his friend and fellow roadie Brian. According to the time, they were late. He cursed to himself. The busses needed to go in half an hour.

“Jack says to get our asses moving,” Adam said. He was off the bed and tugging a pair of faded jeans on. “Before you ask, I didn’t tell him you were here, he knew. Nosy twat that he is.”

Harry grinned at him, “D’you know you need to dye your hair? Your ginger’s showing at your roots.”

Adam made a face. “I know, I know. Tonight before the show. It’s already scheduled into everything. God, that man has the worst timing. Couldn’t wait another fifteen, could he?”

“It could have been worse.” Harry pulled his shirt on, grabbing up his things and jamming them into his pockets. He glanced down at his shirt, it was all tangled and caught in itself, hanging twisted halfway down his chest. He started tugging it into place before the sight hit his brain and he froze. There, just on the edge of his stomach, was black scrawling letters curling onto his side. Adam’s signature. Adam had fucking signed him. He blinked, in shock. How had he forgotten that? How had he missed that for the last two hours?

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked from across the room where he finished stuffing the last of his belongings into his bag.

“You _signed_ me,” Harry said, not really knowing what else to say. He was indignant. He was shocked, because he had honestly forgotten. He was turned on, but like hell he was ever admitting _that_.

“Hot, isn’t it?” Adam was crossing the room. He caught Harry up and turned him around. Harry stepped back and hit the door. Before he could really say anything Adam was already leaning down and inspecting it. A hot, wet mouth pressed against the mark, tongue lapping over it and teeth grazing along the skin before he stood up just as abruptly. Harry bit back a groan. Adam beamed down at him, leaned the few inches down and nipped at his jaw until Harry gasped. Then Adam’s mouth pressed against his.

“You should have seen yourself earlier,” Adam said, leaning back to catch Harry’s eyes. “Naked, covered in hickeys and my autograph.” A brilliant smile lit up his face. “Gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous is a bit much,” Harry said and started to duck under Adam’s arms. He focused on getting back to their work and not on Adam’s nearness, the body heat and the faint scent of skin and cologne. He didn’t expect Adam’s hand to snag his shirt and tug him back.

Adam pressed him into the door, moving until his body was flush against Harry’s. His mouth was just above Harry’s ear when his hot breath puffed against it, “So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Then he was gone, pulling back, but his hands were still on Harry. He pushed his shirt up farther before huffing and pulling it straight up, over Harry’s head and off, letting it drop to the floor. Then he grasped Harry’s jeans and tugged them down a few inches quickly and efficiently, until they barely hung on his hips. “I meant to take a picture. Totally spaced it.”

Harry stared at him in shock. He only watched as Adam dug out his phone, clicked through it. Harry’s brain came rushing back. He stepped forward. “What? No, Adam, I do not want—” And there was the click and snap from the phone.

Adam was looking down at it and grinning like a lunatic. He turned the phone to show Harry the screen. Harry was horrified to see himself, half naked and sharpie ink scrawled across his skin. He looked flushed and kissed and not as alarmed as he was feeling.

“Perfect, right?” Adam asked, tucking the phone away.

“You’re deleting that,” Harry said.

“No way. And you’ll never get my phone off me,” Adam said with a wink. “Aren’t we going to be late?”

\----------

  



	5. Chapter 5

  
Jack met them halfway down to the buses from the lobby. He pointed at Harry, “You’re late.” Then he was turning toward Adam. “You’re moving.” He grabbed up the duffle off Adam’s shoulder. “Let’s get moving, kids. The buses roll out in fifteen. Angie isn’t pleased you two were off the radar the last half hour.”

They glanced at each other.

“I sent a text off,” Harry said without much concern. “What do you mean—”

“I’m moving?” Adam finished for him. He tangled a hand in Harry’s jeans casually, warm fingers pressing against his skin, tugging him closer as they jogged across the lobby in Jack’s wake. More jogging on Harry’s part, he noted, and long strides on Adam’s.

“Bale,” Jack shot over his shoulder, voice only loud enough to carry back to them. “After the sighting in the theatre yesterday, and he was seen by three crew around the buses last night. Specifically, Adam’s bus. It’s been checked over half a dozen times—”

“Why wasn’t I called?” Harry demanded. It annoyed him that anything happened with Bale and he was out of the loop. He should be the first on it. He needed to keep Bale away from everyone.

Jack glanced back at him, eyes amused. “It’s not strictly your job. But I did call you. There was no answer. You weren’t in your room either. Brian said you ducked out after having a few.”

Shit. So he completely lost his footing in that fight. Adam bumped against him. Harry glanced up to see Adam’s questioning gaze. He smiled reassuringly up at him and felt reassured in return. He tried to ease the tension out of his shoulders.

Jack was still shooting him glances, only now they included Adam. Harry glared back, eyebrow arching.

“God, I hate when you do that, Jack,” Adam whined at his side. “It’s annoying as fuck.”

“Do what?” Jack asked.

“That whole silent conversation thing. I could swear you just went on a five minute ‘I know what you did last night’ speech,” Adam grumbled.

“That’s not just me?” Harry said, “It’s maddening isn’t it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Adam said emphatically.

“Don’t blame me for your guilt trips, kids.” Jack pulled up in front of the doors leading to the private parking lot. “Anything you’d like to say before we reach the others? What you two were doing last night?”

Harry shook his head mutely. “Never mind that. What about Bale?”

Jack glanced at Adam, who half shrugged and said, “My conscience is clear. _Guilt trip_ , ha.”

“Bale was around Adam’s bus. It’s fine, but it means he’s distinguished your bus. The boys are moving off it. The girls are moving on, it’s already been switched. Meanwhile, since you two or Kris seems to be the focus of Bale’s attention, we’re isolating you three together on Harry’s bus.” Jack looked between them, waiting for any sign of acknowledgement. “It should throw Bale off to have you elsewhere.”

“The bus sleeps six,” Harry said. “Adding two makes it a bit overcrowded, Jack.” He tried to discern whether this was good or bad news. On the one hand, Adam would be on Harry’s bus, where Harry could keep him safe. On the other hand, Adam would be on Harry’s bus… And Harry wouldn’t be safe from _Adam_. He was not sure he was ready for so much more close contact.

“We can squeeze?” Adam suggested. “It worked pretty well the other night.”

Harry elbowed him in the side. “I am not sharing a bloody tiny cubicle of sleeping space for the next four weeks, thanks.”

Jack cleared his throat, “Gary’s been moved off already. Jerome, Brian, and Leo have been informed and agree to risk what has already been dubbed the stalker bus.”

Harry groaned, “Great, that’s not an omen or anything.”

“Maybe it’s like knocking on wood.” Adam laughed. He knocked on Harry’s head and stared at him innocently when Harry looked up to glare.

Jack cleared his throat again. They turned to him. “Everything clear then?” When he got nods he continued, “Adam you go with Harry straight to the bus. Your things have been moved. Kris is loaded up already. Let’s roll.” He pushed open the door.

Harry leaned in closer to Adam despite himself and whispered, “This feels like a military drill.”

Adam smirked. “Jack’s secret ambition, being a drill sergeant.”

They dashed the hundred feet to the buses, moving at the same pace and staying close. It was only as they climbed onto the bus and were greeted by Kris’s curious expression that Harry realized Adam still had his hand snagged around Harry’s jeans. He hadn’t noticed as they were crossing the lot. But he recalled a few distant shots of cameras, one or two, and he knew they would see something about it in a few days, on fans’ blogs if nothing else.

The hand at the base of his back was reassuring.

\----------

Harry was having one of those weeks. Only, he wasn’t sure it was contained to one single week and had this worrying feeling it was going to get worse. It only stood to reason, since the people driving him up a wall weren’t bound to go anywhere any time soon.

And he was quite comfortable laying blame for it all at the feet of one security head. Namely, Jack. Who was suspiciously pushing Adam and Harry together every chance he got. He kept making comments and eyeing Harry thoughtfully. It was driving him insane, so he laid in wait, an ambush, and the time had come to confront the man.

“Jack,” he said mildly, sliding out from behind the door of Jack’s makeshift office at the latest amphitheatre.

He barely glanced up at Harry from the newspaper he was reading. “I thought you would be off with Adam and Kris by now.”

“Kris got waylaid by Megan and took Adam with him.” He kicked the door shut and hooked his thumbs in his belt, waiting for Jack to continue, to say anything. Perhaps suddenly burst into confession and apologies. It would be nice.

Jack’s eyes flicked up to him. “You’re not with them?”

“They’re in the amphitheatre, in the back.” When Jack kept staring disapprovingly at him he added, “surrounded by half the crew. Everyone bustling back and forth. They are fine.”

“Ah.” He set down his newspaper. “I wanted to get both of them out for awhile. Adam in particular. Kris’s wife is coming out in a couple days and he can manage the schedule until then, but Adam, he could use some relief.”

“I needed to talk to you,” he started then stopped, because a thought occurred to him. “Going out for at best an hour before we need to be back here isn’t going to relax Adam.”

“Best we can manage under the circumstances.” He shrugged one heavy shoulder. “And you underestimate your influence on our rock star.”

“That’s absurd,” he replied. This, this was exactly what was driving him mad! Random comments like that, out of the blue. Little nudges and pushes from the mother hen they called their head security guard.

“Why don’t you go out for coffee?” Jack suggested, tossing the newspaper in the garbage bin. “There’s still a good half hour.”

Harry turned on him. “What?” At Jack’s questioning look he growled out, “‘Why don’t you go out for coffee?’” There was the possibility, he vaguely thought, that he was cracking under all the pressure too.

“Yes, as in, why don’t you go out with Adam for a cup of coffee.” He stared down at him in amusement. “Do you require further clarification?”

“What I _require_ is for you to keep your bloody nose out of my affairs.” He stalked forward and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Making remarks and suggestions.”

Jack’s dark brown eyes dropped to the finger in his chest before looking back up into his face. Harry huffed a little, a silent, ‘yeah, I’m not backing down, what are you going to do about that?’

“Harry, it’s coffee,” he finally said. “Adam needs to unwind for five minutes. A cup of coffee will help him out.”

“Oh, get off your high horse, Jack,” he bit out. “This has nothing to do with Adam taking a break. Suddenly, out of the blue, you have reversed being against Adam and me to supporting the idea, and you’ve been bloody vocal about it too. Keep your nose out.”

Jack snorted. He stepped back from Harry and turned toward his makeshift desk, dropping his satchel on it and picking up a clipboard. “Ah, I see now. Are you telling me you two aren’t heading in that direction, Harry?”

Harry glared. “That’s not the point! Just because I’m a sinking ship does not mean I want you coming along and throwing more water on me! And I can do without your smart little comments too.”

“Smart little comments,” Jack said, expression bland.

“Yes. This ‘why don’t you go out for coffee’ nonsense,” he replied sharply.

“I didn’t realize that was smart, Harry.” Jack looked over his clipboard and signed the bottom. He flipped through a few more pages before tossing it back on the desk.

Harry continued to glare at him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jack said, staring right back.

“I want you to say you’ll stop,” Harry said.

“Do you feel I’m asking you to do anything outside the realms of work or friendship?” Jack asked.

“Excuse me?”

“To my knowledge I have neither said nor done anything inappropriate. However, if I see a benefit to the two of you kindling your flirting into something more substantial – if you haven’t already – you can’t blame a friend for caring, now can you?” Jack said calmly, sitting back against the makeshift desk.

Harry was having a hard time not staring at him with his jaw on the floor. “Excuse me?” He asked again.

“I thought that was pretty clear,” he said, arms crossed. “If there is anything else?”

He picked up his jaw. What the bleeding hell was he supposed to say to that? Aside from ‘mind your own business,’ which had failed spectacularly. “You were against us only a few months ago. I distinctly remember that.”

“I was,” Jack agreed.

“Now you’re for us.”

“To put it succinctly, yes.”

“What the hell happened to change your mind?” Harry honestly couldn’t think of a single thing that would.

Jack smiled slightly, fingers flexing at the edge of the desk. “I wasn’t sure at first, because Adam’s a flirt, and new to this business. As you know, he’s in for a crazy ride.”

“Why would I know that?” Harry asked a little too sharply.

He arched an eyebrow. “Celebrities are somehow your business. I haven’t pieced it all together yet, but I can tell that much. Celebrities and security. Not your standard bodyguard work, but something involving both.”

“Right, your hunches.” Harry smiled briefly despite himself. “Oh, bugger it. So you, what, disapproved because of Adam’s career? That hasn’t changed.”

Jack shook his head. “Because the variables were wrong for the two of you. But you’ve both made them work, lord knows how. Adam’s got a level head, bless his bubbly soul. And you… Well, Harry, you’ve got your secrets, that’s abundantly clear, but around our wonderboy you soften up a little. It’s something you need. You two are good for each other, whether you like it or not.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly, black hair flopping in his eyes before he brushed it away quickly. “I am not good for Adam.”

“Of course you are,” he said.

Harry leaned against the opposite wall from Jack’s desk. “Really.” He couldn’t wait to hear this one.

“Harry.” Jack looked like he was honest-to-Merlin trying not to laugh in his face. “You provide some level of normalcy Adam’s not getting anywhere else in his life, not even from his family. You’re grounding him while all the marvels of fame unfold in front of him.”

Harry could see his point, sort of. Fame hit people hard, even when they were prepared for it. Harry was used to it. But still, Jack wasn’t entirely correct. “His family isn’t getting caught up in all that, they’ve got him grounded more than I do, I’m positive.”

“They’re adjusting too,” he said simply. Harry shut up at Jack’s solemn expression. “They’re no more used to their son, or brother, or friend being famous than Adam is himself. All of them need some period of adjustment before they catch up with themselves. You though, you’re a veteran, like most of us who’ve been around the business awhile.” He watched Harry with a curious expression. “I’d have bet you experienced fame, but no one ever recognizes you and name searches turn up zero.”

“You’ve searched me?” Harry asked before thinking it through. Jack would naturally research Harry. He already knew he had, but his files were buried or simply didn’t exist under his assumed name. He smiled sheepishly. “Never mind, daft question.”

“If that answers your burning questions?” Jack straightened and nodded toward the door. “I have work, kiddo.”

“I’m not a kid—”

“Tough luck, _kiddo_ ,” Jack said, heading toward the door.

He still had a few questions, and a lot of grievances, but he knew when a conversation came to an end, especially one with Jack. As Harry made to leave, Jack caught his shoulder. “Think about that. You’re the only one Adam knows who isn’t in his situation and manages to treat him like a normal man, not a rock star. You’re doing more good for him than you know.”

Harry stared up at him before nodding slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

“Jack,” he added.

“Yes?”

“Cut back on your smart remarks.”

Jack snorted. “I’ll think about it.”

\----------

That conversation still bugged the hell out of Harry. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he got. Not because Jack was wrong, though he was, but because Jack thought he was right. And was still sticking his nose into things. With those damn insinuations. The comments. The suggestions to go out when they could. He had enough on his plate without dealing with Jack’s matchmaking.

He glanced around the parking lot as he headed off one of the loading docks. It was packed, filled with tour buses, semi trucks and several cars, but it was mostly quiet. A few of the staff moved from bus to truck or stood around on break, drinks and a few cigarettes on hand. Nearly everyone was in the amphitheatre. The idols would have finished up with their sound checks an hour ago and were meeting with a few interviewers. The crew would be shuffling around the last of the paraphernalia for the show tonight. Harry himself just got away, wanting to check most of the luggage was stored away and hide out on the bus for a few hours of quiet, if he could manage it.

Peace and quiet was something he had hadn’t seen in awhile. Well, fuck, it was his own fault. He knew that. His and Jack’s. And Adam’s. Probably partly the tour in general. And _Bale_ , who maddened him the more time went on. He forced himself to stop next to his bus – still shared with Adam and Kris, for over a week now – and take a few slow, deep breaths.

No one ever really thought how crowded something like a tour was. Everyone lived out of each other’s pockets. Adam and Harry lived out of each other’s pockets _before_ and now, on the same bus, Harry was ready to explode if he didn’t get some room to breathe. Kris, Leo, Jerry, and Brian didn’t help create any sense of space either.

He hauled open the storage compartments along the side of their home away from home, tallying baggage as he went. Everything was accounted for, anything else they had would be brought on the bus proper when they left that night.

He closed up the doors, making sure they were locked, before entering the code on the door and climbing up the steps into the cool interior. Silence, thank Merlin. He eyed the kitchen area with despair. Brian was a messy roommate. He never cleaned up after himself. Dishes, garbage, even clothing and a couple bags of ‘important’ crap all crowded out the little counter space available.

It was a sty, matching up with Harry’s complete and utter expectancy. He rolled his eyes as he tossed away the trash and dumped the few ceramic dishes in the small sink. He decided to ignore the cramped table littered with their accumulated property: a deck of cards; Leo’s phone; letters for Kris and Adam; a crop, definitely for Adam; a laptop; a box of Chinese from breakfast that morning, probably Jerry’s; Harry’s spare glasses. He kicked three bags of what Brian would argue as incredibly important and delicate technology out of the way as he edged his way into the back.

“Hey, sexy.” Adam said, a purr to his voice.

Harry jumped and tripped over one of Brian’s bags as he jerked around and stumbled into the entertainment area of the bus. He caught himself on the built-in multimedia shelving, hitting his shin in just the right spot to make him lose his footing. He ended up hanging on to one shelf for dear life as he got his feet back under him.

When he’d regained his equilibrium he looked up and stared accusingly at Adam. Fucking hell, the rock star was just sitting there, one leg propped on the coffee table in front of him, laptop settled on his legs and watching him with what could only be pure glee in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Sitting?” He tried. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What a shock, surprising me when you’re here while you should backstage covering interviews. What are you doing here?” He knew he sounded an utter bastard. He didn’t care.

“Sitting?” He tried again. When Harry’s only reaction was to scowl he added on, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I do live here.”

Harry tried to push back his irritation. “You’re supposed to be on an interview.”

“I finished my part of early, so I ducked out to work on the bus. If you haven’t noticed, it gets a little hectic in there,” he nodded his head in the general direction of the amphitheater.

“You’re telling me,” he muttered before picking his way across the room to the back.

Adam studied him as he went. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bus, huh?”

He tossed a glare over his shoulder. “It’s a crime to be brief, is it?” He vanished into the back, ducking into his bunk and digging through one of the bags he tossed there that morning when they’d packed up from the hotel. He found his little notepad and iPod, the latter Anoop had insisted he buy the first month on tour, and Harry had come to appreciate it more than he’d care to admit.

“Want to watch something?” Adam’s voice called from the other room.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and braced himself. This was not his bloody day. Was it wrong to want an hour to himself? “I thought you were working.” He answered back eventually.

There was a pause and then, “It can wait a few. Wouldn’t mind kicking back for awhile.”

“I’m sure one of the others has a game going on inside if you’re bored.” He didn’t hold out much hope for Adam taking on the suggestion, be he had to try.

His voice was closer when he spoke again, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

Harry looked back to see him filling out the tight doorway, casual jeans and printed t-shirt, barefoot and messy hair. Someone relaxed who’d been lounging for awhile. “Know better,” he couldn’t stop from suggesting. Adam’s frown told him exactly how much he didn’t like that remark.

“You’re banning me from the bus?” Adam asked disbelievingly.

Harry felt the ever more frequent flush creeping across his cheeks. He didn’t know whether he was more guilty or pissed. “It was only a suggestion.”

Adam had to know how big a lie that was. He looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Right.”

Harry watched him vanish from sight. Something in him told him to run after him and apologize. He locked that voice into a closet. He could be angry if he bloody well pleased.

When he walked back out into the room, fully prepared to take over a couch until the others started filtering in, he found Adam sprawled back in his original spot, slouched back and staring at the ceiling.

“I thought you left,” he said pointlessly, put out. There was no response and after a minute he huffed. “You’re giving me the silent treatment?” His very first thought was Adam was being absurd. His second was how damn annoying it was he couldn’t even be pissed without being harassed. His third was how much he hated the idea of Adam ignoring him. How bloody sick was he?

“No.” Adam said. “I thought it’d be fun, to come out, relax, watch something with you. You’ve been wound tight all damn week, Harry. But have it your way, we can have a bitch party if you’d prefer.”

“So you’re not working,” Harry said finally, a pointed edge to his voice.

“ _That’s_ what you focus on?” Adam demanded, sitting up straight to stare at him in disbelief and annoyance.

“You said you were here to work,” he replied. “Came out to escape the chaos of everyone else. That was some stupid ploy? Because _you_ think I need to relax?” Watching Adam’s response, it was the first time he’d ever seen his jaw drop in shocked outrage. He didn’t particularly care. Were Adam and Jack plotting together now?

“A ‘ploy?’ What, I’m suddenly playing some mind game with you?” He snapped out.

“How should I know?” Harry snipped back. “You’d be the better judge on that.”

“I’m not,” Adam bit out, jaw clenched. “Fuck, what is _with_ you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not nice for you to get it through your head?” Harry snapped out. “Are you staying or leaving?”

His eyebrows met his hairline. “Staying, whether you like it or not.”

“Fine. Then I’ll go.” He stared for half a second before jerking into motion.

Adam jumped up and cut him off at the entrance to the kitchen area. “What the hell is going on, Harry?”

Harry glared up at him. “I’m leaving, you’re moving out of my way, yeah?”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “What’s been bothering you? Every day you get bitchier, and I gotta tell you, catty isn’t pretty on you.”

“Adam,” he stopped and inhaled slowly. “I am having a bad week. I need space. Move.”

“Why?” He crossed his arms. “What’s been so terrible about this week that’s turned you into some biting, pissy, angry hermit? Because I’ve been wracking my brains and nothing life altering comes to mind.” The longer he talked the edgier his voice got.

“I don’t want to—”

“Talk about it? Big surprise,” Adam said. “It’s funny, the only difference I can think of is _I’m_ around more.”

Harry met his accusing stare with one of his own. “So what if that’s it? You’re here all the time. Happy? We talked.” He tried not to notice the flash of hurt in the vivid blue eyes as he started pushing himself past, edging along between Adam’s solid weight the unmoving partition of the bus.

An arm hooked around his waist, holding him in place against the doorjamb. “So uncalled for, Harry.” Adam said quietly. The anger still simmered in his tone.

He looked back at him. “I told you I didn’t want to talk. What do you think happens when you push,” he said evenly.

Adam stared at him, looking over his face. Harry could see the anger; it lit up his eyes until they were sparkling, they way they did when he laughed. Then Adam let go. “Okay, fine. Go ahead and leave. _I_ don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”

For a brief moment he was sure all the breath had been knocked out of him. He blinked back sluggishly before his brain kicked in high gear once more. He slid past Adam, through the kitchen, and out the door. Anger and hurt coiled in his mind. This, this was why he didn’t bloody date. It always went like this. He leaned against the side of the bus, trying to come down from the emotional intensity and sort out his muddled thoughts. He looked up and around for any observers, but no crew was in sight, except for some bloke in a baseball cap up nearer the loading docks.

Harry frowned and squinted. Was that… He tried to clear his thoughts and stared harder. That was Bale. The cheeky fuck was right there, leaning against one of the docks, fiddling with something around his neck. Merlin’s balls, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world as he stood right in the middle of them.

He watched him, frozen in surprise and some amount of disbelief. What was he doing? What was that thing around his neck?

Bale’s fingers twisted some circular piece of metal hanging by a thin leather cord around his neck. It was small, and he had to be a good twenty yards away, but still, Harry thought it looked vaguely familiar. He was sure he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn’t recall Bale ever wearing a necklace in any previous meetings. Or in any video footage for that matter, which Harry had studied religiously the past several weeks. It was palm-sized and silver, glittering faintly in the fading sun.

Then, of course, because this was _his_ life and it couldn’t possibly ever possess something resembling normalcy, the disc glowed. Harry was sure his heart stopped, but it couldn’t have because suddenly he was shouting.

Bale looked up, startled, and met his eyes across the lot. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Harry suspected he looked much the same. Then the door of the bus whipped open and Adam fell out. Harry automatically looked to discover the noise before twisting back to keep an eye on Bale who was looking around nervously.

Adam looked around, saw Harry and headed toward him. “Shit, what’s wrong? I heard you yell. Are you okay?” His eyes traced across to where Harry was staring. “That’s—”

Harry burst into movement, hurtling the few feet to Adam’s approaching form and grabbing his arm. “I know,” he said, dragging him back toward the bus door and trying to push him back in. “Hell, get in, would you?” He craned to look over his neck, but Adam was speaking.

“He’s gone, baby.” He scanned the parking lot. “What the fuck? He was here two seconds ago. I was looking right at him.”

Harry looked too. The bastard was gone, but now Harry knew how he kept doing it. That damn thing around his neck, it was a perception filter. It was magical, one of the ministry’s favorite tools for small muggle events. It meant Bale wasn’t gone, only shifted out of their perception.

He pushed at Adam again. “Get on the bus, Adam,” he growled out softly.

Adam looked down at him and his fingers wrapped tightly around Harry’s bicep. “You too.”

“I’m not letting him get away,” Harry said, angry.

“Wait for Jack. If he’s still here—”

“He’ll be gone by the time security is organized!” Harry tugged at Adam’s hand.

“I’m alone on the bus right now and he knows which one,” he finished pointedly. Harry suspected it was to get him on the bus instead of running off, but it was effective. The will to fight drained out of him.

“I need to call Jack,” he muttered.

“I called the second I heard you yell,” Adam admitted, tugging him up into the bus.

Harry arched an eyebrow at his back. “Bit of an overreaction, that.”

“This entire scenario proves what a stupid line that was,” he said back, voice tense.

“Suppose so.” Harry leaned over the dash to stare at the windows, trying to spot anything unusual. Or spot Jack and the other security arrive. Merlin, it would be a long afternoon now, looking for Bale, going over what they both saw, discussing if anything needed to be done again.

It now made sense, Bale’s vanishing act. Muggles couldn’t see past a perception filter. What didn’t make sense was why Harry couldn’t see him. He should have been immune to that particular charm. It simply didn’t work on other wizards and witches, or most magical beings for that matter. Had Bale managed to somehow modify the charm? That would require years of study of magical theory. But that didn’t add up either, because Harry was sure Bale wasn’t magical. He’d kept an eye out for magical signatures ever since Bale first cropped up and he’d redoubled his efforts after that kid, Tyler, discovered him. He had to be a squib, if anything.

“If you stare any harder your eyes wall pop out,” Adam said quietly. He snorted as Harry jumped out of his skin, whacking his head on the windshield.

“Hell,” he grumbled. “This is bloody ridiculous.”

He offered Harry a bottle of water. “Let Jack take care of this.”

Harry accepted the bottle, still rubbing at his head with one hand. “I am not useless as a bodyguard, you know.”

“I never said you were,” he sounded utterly exasperated.

“You obsess about my not getting involved,” he returned tersely. He sipped the water, carbonated and tasting vaguely of orange.

“I want you here,” Adam said, annoyed. “God knows why.”

It only just occurred to him Adam might be really worried about being left alone with Bale somewhere outside. Something like an apology creeped over his brain, trying to claw its way to his mouth. He bit it back, not really in any mood to admit he was an arse. But he relaxed minutely and sat on the edge of the driver’s seat. “Jack will have this place crawling with the entire security force soon.”

“I know. He’s as bad as you are. I’m going to,” he nodded toward the back. “Are you..?”

“I’ll keep an eye out here, just in case,” he said. “Be back when Jack gets a move on.”

He nodded and vanished into the back. Harry breathed out a heavy sigh, not really sure what he was upset about anymore.

\----------

Leo and Brian had a problem and its name was ‘Harry and Adam.’ Leo wasn’t entirely sure why Jerry and Kris weren’t having the same problem. After all, they lived on the same bus and were dealing with the same morons, but he and Brian managed to talk them around.

Brian, Leo knew, only had a problem because he was a romantic schmuck underneath his nerd exterior. Leo, on the other hand, was a hardcore pragmatist. He didn’t believe in or care much for romance. He did care for a little domicile serenity when he wasn’t working his butt off setting up lighting and sound systems at whatever amphitheater they were dumped at for the day. So, if romance was the road to get that peace, he was going to take it.

After a little cajoling on the third day of an increasingly tense atmosphere Jerry cracked like an egg and agreed to Brian’s inspiring plan of intervening between Adam and Harry. Kris was a tougher nut. He took one look at his three new roommates and started spouting off about friend loyalty and not ganging up on anyone.

After the sixth day of inter-bus-mate tension he too folded like a cheap deck of cards. Leo was ready to raise his clasped palms to his chin in a classic arch-villain pose. Brian beat him to it, the uber-nerd.

Leo decided he had a right to the move, since they were going to instigate Brian’s clever plot.

He peered over the edge of his _Legend of Zelda_ cheats manual. Harry would be coming back from the kitchen any minute now and they had to get their plan rolling. Brian met his gaze, gave a half nod, and proceeded to elbow Kris in the side.

Kris looked up at Brian with alarmed eyes. He looked between Leo and Brian and turned red. The guy was a great entertainer, but his acting skills needed a little work.

Kris cleared his throat loudly. “Ah. Yeah. I wanted to, um, get some shuteye.”

“‘Kay,” Adam said absently, immersed in something on his phone.

Brian elbowed Kris again.

He cleared his throat. “Man, I think—didn’t you leave a bunch of stuff on my bunk earlier?”

Actually, Jerry emptied Adam’s bags out on his bunk earlier, and then proceeded to apologize and not clean it up. It was all a part of their Evil Plan.

Adam glanced up distractedly. “Oh, yeah. You can just dump it on my bunk. I’ll get it when I hit the sack.”

Brian elbowed Kris again, who leaned away defensively. “Dude, there could be something fragile. Or, er.” He looked around for help.

“Dirty,” Leo suggested.

“Dirty?” Adam looked up indignantly, focus now entirely on Leo. “FYI, I do not carry pornos in my duffle.”

Leo took a minute to process that. “I was thinking more along the lines of dirty laundry, but whatever gets your rocks off, man.”

Kris was blushing and stuttering over on the other couch, as though he’d forgotten he wasn’t actually going to bed and didn’t actually need to paw through Adam’s stuff.

Adam looked over at Kris before letting out a long suffering sigh. “You’re never going to shove my shit over now, are you?”

He looked relieved. “Could you..?”

“I do _not_ keep porn or,” he made a face, “dirty clothes in with my clean stuff, Kris Allen. I’m not a frickin’ barbarian.”

“Still,” Kris trailed off. Adam was already standing up, setting his phone on the little side table and heading into the back, muttering.

“I am never doing that again,” Kris blurted out as soon as he was sure Adam wasn’t paying attention anymore.

“Never doing what again?” Jerry asked as he and Harry came back from the kitchen. Leo shot out a well aimed kick, blessedly just out of sight of Harry.

Jerry glared at him, blue eyes snapping. “Hey, watch it, would you?”

“Kris was just saying,” Leo said as pointedly as he could, “That he never wants to…”

“Play that stupid level of Zelda again. You know the one,” Brian said helpfully from across the six feet of rumbling bus. “Right?”

“…right,” Kris muttered.

Leo glanced down at his manual. “Er, yeah.”

“When did Leo drag you into Zelda, Kris?” Harry snorted. “He tries to lure everyone in, but I never thought he’d nab you.”

“Oh, he hasn’t,” Kris said determinedly. “One time deal.”

“Harry,” Jerry said quickly. “Can I borrow that book now, that novel?”

“I think it’s packed below,” Harry said, frowning. “I have something else though, some mystery Lil loaned me.”

“Where is it?” Jerry asked.

“My bunk,” Harry said. “You want it? I’m bored with it, to be honest.”

“Yes!” Jerry was a little too enthusiastic and Leo wanted to kick him again. “Now alright? Right now?”

Harry gave him an odd look. “Yeah. One tic.”

Leo waited three seconds after Harry disappeared then hissed, “Now.”

They all jumped up. Jerry hauled the coffee table violently toward the kitchen door as Kris and Brian grabbed the arms of their couch and began pushing it toward the door to the back.

“Shit,” Kris said, spotting Adam walking back up the short hallway. He was giving them a confused look.

“What are you guys doing?” He was half laughing.

Leo just managed to whip the door shut in his face. He felt a welling of pride even as Kris and Brian slotted the couch in place. Just in time too, because the door rattled as Adam tried to open it.

Oh yeah, they were diabolical.

“Did we really just do that?” Kris dropped onto the couch. Brian sat next to him and braced his feet against the floor as Adam pushed roughly against the door.

“Yep,” Leo said in satisfaction. Brian offered up a hand to high-five, which Leo slapped with triumph.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Adam’s voice was muffled, but clear enough through the thin metal door.

“Taking a stand!” Leo shouted back, high on success. He ignored Jerry’s ‘oh jesus god, he’s going to start monologuing.’

There was a much quieter, undecipherable conversation on the other side of the door. Harry must have just worked things out. And then,

“What the bloody fuck!” There was some more pounding, “Brian? Kris? What the hell is going on?”

Leo spoke up again, “We’re _taking a stand_.”

“Against what?” That was Adam’s voice. He sounded pissed.

“You go,” Leo made a face at Brian. He did this romantic crap better.

Brian waited a beat, looking at the others, before he caved. “Against you two,” he leaned back and yelled through the door. “You’re making our lives hell. We thought you could use some time alone to talk it out and since you’re not getting there yourselves we’re helping you along.”

A short pause was followed with, “Open the door or I’ll flay you, Leo.”

Leo and Brian laughed while Kris groaned. Jerry simply shook his head before calling out, “Sorry, Harry. Just, you know, talk or whatever and then we’ll let you out.”

“We’re _fine_ ,” Harry snarled. Leo could just picture his face. Another soft murmur came, probably from Adam, because it was followed by Harry’s, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!”

A few minutes of silence, and Jerry spoke up. “Do you think we won?”

“That easily?” Kris said skeptically. That was Leo’s thought exactly.

“You all realize Adam and I have the loo,” Harry called.

“Er, yeah, so?” Brian made a face. “Oh my god, this isn’t about sex, is it?” They all heard Adam laugh.

Harry’s tone was patient when it came again, “No. It means you all do not have the bathroom. How long do you think the four of you can hold out before you have to take a piss? Last I saw there were a dozen empties on the table.”

They glanced at the coffee table as one.

Leo shook his head. “Is that supposed to deter us? We’ve got a dozen empty bottles in the kitchen!”

“You did not just say that.” Brian stared at him in horror. “Where the hell were you raised? In a barn?”

“I hear dissent,” Harry said with no small trace of satisfaction.

Leo shot Brian a glare. “It’s called camping, moron. Don’t tip him off!”

Jerry rolled his eyes. “In case it’s escaped anyone’s notice,” he spoke as loud as he could without shouting, “we are on a moving bus. There’s no shortage of pit-stops or good old fashioned scenery outside.”

Brian looked more satisfied at that. Kris had his face buried in a pillow and was shaking. Brian poked his shoulder, “You alright, man?”

The pillow shook back and forth. Kris pulled away, his face bright red, tears on his cheeks. “It’s so insane.” He burst out into fresh laughter.

There was a silence from the other side and then a soft. “Kris, I’m going to kill you.” Leo couldn’t tell if it came from Adam or Harry.

“Guys,” Adam said eventually. “I have like three producers to email back ASAP.”

“They’ll survive till morning,” Leo called back.

“Are you serious?” Adam whined.

“Our mental health is more important than your email,” Leo said. “So get talking.”

\----------

Harry was watching him warily, as though Adam was going to jump across the foot of distance and devour him. Under happier circumstances, that wouldn’t be a bad idea, but as it was, he was offended Harry seemed to think he couldn’t control himself. Or was thinking about sex in the first place.

“We don’t seem to have much choice in anything,” he said finally, just to say something, and shoved the debris of his bag to one side so he could sit on his bed. It was a lower bunk this time, much to his dismay.

“Nothing new to me,” Harry muttered and began digging in one of his drawers.

Adam frowned at his back. “And that means..? What, suddenly we’re all controlling you? You really know how to rail against the world, don’t you.” He tried to cut some of the bitchiness from his tone, but from the way Harry stilled he doubted he succeeded on that front.

Harry rested his forehead against the edge of the bunk. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Really.” He was skeptical.

He turned halfway to look over at Adam, though one hand was still wedged in the open drawer. “Not here or now. Back,” he made a face and turned back to his search. “Back home? England. It’s not really home anymore.”

“Oh.” Adam let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Suddenly this feud seemed like a waste of time. “You were controlled a lot? Growing up?”

Harry snorted, “Yeah, you could say that. Everybody thought they had a right to order me about. Took me a long time to figure out they didn’t. Oh bugger.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Their daft plan is working,” he said. He finally seemed to find what he was looking for and turned around with contact solution in hand and a pile of clothing. “Back in tic.”

He watched him vanish into the bathroom. When Harry emerged in lounge pants, t-shirt, and glasses, Adam couldn’t stop his smile. It wasn’t his fault Harry was irresistibly cute. Really.

“It’s good,” he said before grabbing up some of his own things. “Good that we’re talking, I mean. A stupid plan, but… You know, you look sexy as hell in those glasses.” Because that happened to be a very distracting and therefore very relevant fact at the moment.

He was surprised to see the irritation flash across Harry’s face. “I’m not here to please you, Adam.”

He physically pulled back. “Damn. Who the fuck said you _were_?”

Harry flinched, “Sorry. Sorry. Shit.”

“Yeah,” he stood and headed to the bathroom. “My thoughts exactly.” Adam grimaced at his reflection in the mirror, changed quickly into sweatpants and stood there. He wasn’t all that sure he wanted to go back out and deal with a still bitchy Harry. Slowly, he dug around in his bag until he found his makeup remover, focusing on getting his eyeliner off and trying to ignore his freewheeling thoughts.

It was hard to not think about Harry though. Guys didn’t 180 on you for no reason, and god knew he had his own indulgent moments. Or panicked moments, and that’s really more what it felt like. Like Harry was panicking right in front of him and neither of them had any choice but to let it happen in close quarters. Adam would happily give Harry space if he could.

He stared at himself in the mirror, eyes squinting.

Okay, that was a total lie. He really didn’t want to give Harry any space at all. But in his defense, he understood needing space. He did! But a person needing space needed to need space _from_ something, and since Harry fucking refused to acknowledge they _were_ something, Adam didn’t really see why Harry needed space from him. Space from the person he was trying rabidly to not acknowledge as needing space from. One part of a pair. A couple.

The only thing that made sense was Harry needed space to close himself off from him again, and like _hell_ Adam was going to let that happen.

He made a face in the mirror and tried to sort out that sequence of thought, some part of him saying it made no damn sense whatsoever. He half wished he had his phone, which was stuck out on the table, so he could call Brad or Neil or anyone who would know exactly what to say about all of this. He groaned softly and tried to pin down his thoughts, determined to hash them out with Harry tonight whether he liked it or not. Whether either of them liked it or not. Leo and the others – Kris! Adam still couldn’t believe it – might be evil little conspirators, but they weren’t totally wrong either. He was getting pretty sick of the tension too.

He opened the door and headed back to his bunk. Harry was sitting on Adam’s bed, cross-legged and chewing his lower lip distractedly.

“My stuff,” he looked around. “You…”

“I put it away. In the drawers. Your bag’s in the cupboard,” he nodded to the tight sliver of locker they had to call a closet.

They stared at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted out. “For, that is not for… For more than earlier, but all week.”

“Why?” Adam asked. He wondered if Harry even knew what he was apologizing for. He doubted it.

“Why?” He repeated.

He slowly climbed into the bunk to sit cross-legged next to Harry, facing him. “Yeah. Why are you sorry? Do you know why I’m mad?”

He started chewing on his lower lip again, almost furiously. “Because I’ve been awful all week. Stressed. It’s a lot to deal with.”

Adam frowned, not particularly caring for the descriptor ‘it’s,’ which was at best vague and at worst a shitty way to describe _them_. “Okay…” He didn’t even know where to start with that one.

Harry gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Adam was thinking. “Sometimes I don’t like to talk, Adam.”

“Honey, you never like to talk,” he said with a dry look. “It’s like pulling teeth with you. In fact, I might rather have a tooth pulled.”

“I haven’t been handling things well.” Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Please, please tell me that is not a revelation for you.”

Harry glared at him, “Aren’t you cute.”

“Entitled,” he said back.

“You’ve been a right git too,” he said.

Disbelief welled up. “You’re serious? Every time I tried talking to you all week, you’ve blown me off. I could have said good morning and you’d bitch about that.”

“I have not been that bad,” Harry flared up.

“You’ve been damn near unbearable, Harry,” Adam snapped. “All I wanted to do all week was relax, maybe watch those stupid Mummy movies with you, cheer you the fuck up, and you have been nothing but aggressive and sulky.”

“Fine, it’s been a bad week, alright?” He bit out, “I’m not allowed to ever get stressed? What, your boyfriends have all been perfectly cheerful in the past? That’s absurd, and I told you to leave off for awhile, but did you _listen_ —”

“Stop and backtrack there. What did you say?” He stared hard at Harry, caught up somewhere between anger and shock and satisfaction.

He sighed impatiently, “You don’t listen—”

“Before that. My boyfriends.” Adam scooted in closer and leaned toward him. “You said my boyfriends.”

The expression on his face was completely blank, much to Adam’s annoyance. “So? You have had a few.”

Adam huffed, “You compared yourself to my boyfriends. Acknowledgement much? You’re my boyfriend? Are we dating now? Because you fucking failed to send that memo.”

Harry looked positively alarmed. He leaned way slightly, but Adam snagged a hand in the red t-shirt and hauled him back in close. “I, I don’t know?”

“You don’t know?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, clearly you don’t either!” Harry said, defensive. He pried at the fingers grasping his shirt.

“Oh my god,” Adam groaned, leaning forward enough to drop his head against Harry’s chest, just above where his hand was still fisted in his shirt. “Are were seriously this crazy?”

He felt Harry’s chest vibrate before the sound of laughter registered. “Adam, I know you think I’m a, Merlin, crumpet or something like, but this entire, I don’t know, enterprise of yours has been buggered from the get-go,”

Adam lifted his head to stare before he said with a mischievous grin, “I’m pretty sure you butter a crumpet, right? Or did I just hear you wrong?”

Harry stared at him blankly for a moment. That familiar flush was creeping up his neck. “What? No. Um.”

Adam kept up the staring contest. “Am I wrong?”

"Yes. I mean, no. You do butter crumpets—” He tried to backpedal. “But,”

Adam grinned, “So that works out to my advantage pretty well.”

“I mean— _No_.” His face looked close to bursting into flame. “No, that’s a different crumpet. It’s…it’s slang. Er. You don’t… Well, sometimes you. I mean… There are two meanings to crumpet back home,”

“Harry,” Adam said. “I know.”

“One’s a bit of bakery, and the other is a person—what do you mean, you know?” Harry stopped and stared at Adam, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Oh, you bloody fucker.”

Adam leaned back in. “You’re the one who started talking about crumpets. And I think your sexy blush proves my side more than yours.” He moved in the last few inches and kissed him. Harry remained still for a split second before he was leaning in, mouth sliding open and tongue running along Adam’s lower lip.

It was the only encouragement Adam needed. He released Harry’s shirt to brace one hand on the bed, the other sliding up to cup his jaw. He urged Harry back as he deepened the kiss, tongue teasing along teeth and tongue. Suddenly Adam really hoped the guys meant what they said about leaving the two of them alone all night, because a few plans were forming in his head. It would be better for them if they butted out of said plans. And then it all jarred to a stop.

“Ow,” he rubbed his lip, wincing. He looked down. “Shit, are you—”

Harry made a face, pulling his askew glasses off and rubbing where the back of his head hit the wall. “‘m fine.” He laughed softly. “I hate these bunks. Might as well be in a coffin.”

“Well that’s attractive,” Adam shook his head and slid down to rest at Harry’s side. “Though now that you mention it…”

“A bed and no audience would be better,” his bedmate pointed out, sliding down a little further. “And space.”

Adam let off a frustrated sigh. “Suppose so. Isn’t that where this all started?” He glanced over at Harry, whose lips were puffy and swollen and cheeks flushed red.

“Yeah.” Harry looked back at him.

“If we’re fine,” he asked after awhile, “what was this last week about?”

“Lots of things. Little things,” he said. “I told you, sometimes I need space. I get moody.”

“That was just ‘moody?’” He couldn’t be blamed for the disbelief, really, could he? He settled back a little more comfortably, tucking his arms up under his head.

“That was,” Harry seemed to be looking for words. “Hell. Things adding up. Being needled.” He watched Adam for understanding. “My two best friends, Ron and Hermione, they were something to see growing up.”

Okay, this had to be going somewhere. Adam waited patiently, hoping it would come back around to this week, though he didn’t quite see how it could. He was willing to see where Harry was taking this though.

“They hated each other, come to think of it. But that was only our first year. They became a duo, but they never thought the same way. I was the friend in the middle. They could understand each other with a look. You know that sort of bond?” At Adam’s nod he continued, “But they were shit at talking to each other. I was ‘Mione’s and Ron’s ear whenever they didn’t see eye to eye. They needed to be apart to think. Like they worked best after taking a break.”

Adam’s mouth twitched, “That’s such a dangerous phrase.”

“Hmm?” He frowned at him.

“‘Taking a break,’” he laughed. “Remind me to youtube _Friends_ for you.”

Harry gave him an odd look. “There was a point in there.”

Adam smiled. “We’re fine, but too much time together is going to drive you crazy,” he translated.

Harry laughed, “Something like. I don’t mind the time, sometimes I want a moment for my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me.” He turned onto his side, propping his head in hand. “I never was the quickest about working things through. You can ask ‘Mione that.”

“Got her number?” Adam asked idly.

“She’s not much of a mobile person,” he noted. “Odd really, I always thought she would be.”

Sometimes, Adam thought, Harry said the craziest shit. Occasionally he wanted a dictionary to decipher comments like that. Or maybe a Wikipedia page on Harry’s life. Something to check notes on.

“So we’re dating.” He really wanted to nail that one down before this moment slipped away and Harry somehow managed to wave it off.

“We must be. Is this our first date then?”

“Lunch was our first date,” he said promptly. “Back in Michigan.” When he looked over at him he could see Harry wracking his brain for the specifics.

“It wasn’t,” he argued. “If anything, we started dating after your mum visited.”

“Okay.” Adam wasn’t picky really. He finally got Harry where he wanted him after all. “We can agree to disagree. I say Michigan was our first date. You say waking up in bed together was our first date.”

Harry sputtered, “I didn’t! I said _after_.”

Adam laughed. “Okay, so. You say we started dating…after we spent the night together.”

“You—I. Merlin, you’re impossible,” he said petulantly as Adam kept laughing.

Adam slowly calmed down, laughter dying down into the occasional giggle. “You’re adorable when you’re in denial.”

“I’m not in denial,” Harry said. He slid his arm up to curl around the upper edge of the bunk, head resting on his arm. “You’re simply impossible.”

Adam grinned, “You’ve been in denial ever since we met.”

“That might be the most absurd thing you’ve ever said. I have not,” he insisted.

“Have,” he smiled when Harry growled.

But Harry was starting to get up, muttering ‘impossible’ under his breath and something about ‘own bed.’ Adam half sat up and slid an arm around his waist, pulling him back down. “We should watch _The Mummy_ tomorrow.”

Harry settled back against him. “Before sound check, interviews, concert, or red-eye to San Francisco?”

“Shit, that tomorrow?” Adam hummed. “I thought that was a couple days off.”

“No, the flight’s tomorrow. Your meeting the day after. You’re recording, yeah?”

“Mhm. Damn, I really need to email Max,” Adam tucked his face in against Harry’s neck. “But I don’t think our captors plan on letting us out any time soon.”

“Doubt it.” Harry laughed suddenly. “I bet they do have to use the loo.”

Adam snickered, “Oh my god, baby. Seriously?”

“Think about it,” he chuckled. “We haven’t pulled over once since they locked us in here, what,” he glanced at his watch, “three hours ago already?”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Serves them right.”

“I quite agree.”

“So, since we have the back all to ourselves…” He knew Harry could read his tone perfectly. He knew Harry was smiling when he spoke from his tone alone.

“Don’t you dare. I want a real bed and somewhere can play without running into the walls every other minute.”

Adam smirked into Harry’s neck. “We’ll be in Sanfran this time tomorrow.”

“We’ll be on a plane,” he corrected.

“A little past this time tomorrow,” he amended. “Buzzkill.”

“Then you’ll be in the studio all day,” Harry added.

Adam groaned and tightened his grip around Harry. “ _Buzzkill_. You are not improving the incentives for me to not feel you up right now, baby.”

Harry was silent for several minutes. Finally he said, “In a hotel we won’t have to be quiet and we’ll have all night.”

Adam stilled, getting lost in the sheer sexiness of that image. “Okay,” he drawled out finally. “Big points for waiting.” Because he had big plans about taking Harry apart at the seams. He really, really fucking did.

\----------

“Damn, that was unexpected,” Adam trailed off as they walked briskly through the hallway of the latest building. He and Harry just arrived in San Francisco not an hour ago, heading straight from the airport to the recording studio. A few dozen fans had been two steps ahead of them. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“You should have slept on the plane,” Harry said unsympathetically beside him, following their guide, Jim, to whatever room they would be dumped in until the producer arrived.

Adam stuck his tongue out. “I had some things to do.”

“You were on twitter,” Harry grumbled. “And sniggering to yourself halfway through the flight.”

Adam coughed to hide his chuckle. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of head and hoped like hell there weren’t giant rings under his eyes, despite the liberal use of concealer. “I had to share with someone how cute you are when you’re half asleep and rumpled and bitchy. Still…” He followed behind Harry and Jim as they slid into a room. It was large, with muted colors, a few couches and tables, a counter and fridge. Adam had the feeling they would be waiting awhile with a room like this.

“There are some snacks and things available in the kitchenette,” Jim said, motioning. “A resting area, a full bathroom in the door on your left. If there’s anything you need, feel free to use the service phone or head out to the desk down the hall. Mr. Martin should arrive shortly. Is there anything else you require?”

“We’re good, thanks, Jim,” Adam said, Harry nodding beside him.

“Still?” Harry prompted when the door closed.

“Hmm?” Adam shrugged off his jacket. “Oh, yeah, the fans were wild today. How’d they even know we’d be here?”

“You’re not exactly inconspicuous.” Harry wheeled around on him after looking around. “Wait a second, it bothers you?”

He scrunched his nose in dislike, “Of course it does. All the attention gets intense. I’m not immune to it, Harry.”

Harry stared at him like he didn’t recognize him anymore. “You always act like you thrive off it,” he finally said.

Adam half shrugged. He dropped down on one of the taupe sofas in their private waiting room, tossing his leather jacket over the arm. “I try not to let it get to me. It doesn’t usually. I love my crazy ass fans,” he grinned slightly. “Sometimes it’s so, so,” he waved a hand vaguely, searching for the right word.

“Smothering?” Harry suggested, and then, “Invasive? Frustrating? Rude? Oppressive?” He tossed his duffle bag on another couch and wandered over to the mini fridge. “Want something to drink? They’ve got, er, everything.”

“Tea, honey,” he said. “Intense. It gets intense. It’s not something that’s _easy_ to get used to, is it? Shit, I’m just tired today.” He twisted one of his rings, watching as Harry fiddled with the microwave next.

“As I said, you take it all well. I didn’t think it did bother you.” Harry growled, “One of those annoying things about traveling, no one ever mentions every damn appliance is different than the last.”

Adam laughed and hauled himself up from the couch, straightening his black hoodie back into place. “Move over, baby. I can make my own tea, jesus.” Harry didn’t budge, the stubborn twat.

“I can heat a cup of water,” he complained testily, pressing another few buttons. “Why don’t these places come with stoves? They have everything else. There’s probably a bedroom behind one of these doors. They can’t manage a stove and tea kettle?”

He rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around Harry’s waist and hip-bumping him over a foot. “Relax. It’s a cup of tea. We’ll manage somehow.”

Harry huffed and stepped aside, propping a hip against the counter running the length of one wall and watching as Adam hit a few buttons. The microwave hummed to life. “You got it—hell, never mind.” He made a face at Adam’s smirk. “If it bothers you why don’t you ever say anything?”

Adam leaned against the counter beside the microwave so he could face Harry. “It’s something I signed up for—”

“You’ve said that before,” Harry interrupted, head tilting to the side. “You do know that doesn’t mean you can’t whinge about it when the mood strikes.”

Adam blinked rapidly. “I thought I did,” he said honestly.

Harry blinked back, “Er, no, love. Sorry, you don’t. You defend the attention more often than not.”

Adam tried to suppress the smile that wanted to well up. “Only with you. Someone has to, or my fans would never survive your scathing reviews.” The microwave beeped. Harry pushed him out of the way and pulled the coffee mug out, dropping a tea bag into it. Adam vaguely wondered where the hell he pulled that from.

“I thought you were in a bubble,” Harry admitted, heading back toward the couches.

“No honey?” Adam trailed behind him after glancing along the counter. There was sugar, creamer, cinnamon, and no honey. “What kitchen doesn’t have the most basic—”

“It’s in the duffle,” He nodded toward the other couch.

Adam paused a half second and then changed directions toward the bag. “You _packed honey_.”

“You use it every damn day,” Harry said defensively as he settled onto the couch, drawing one leg up under the other. “And most places don’t have it. In any case, when they do it’s always some old crusty bottle and not your brand—why are you looking at me like that?”

He meandered back over to the couch, bottle and energy bar in hand. Harry watched him warily as he set his bounty on the coffee table and arranged himself on the couch beside him. He couldn’t exactly blame him for the paranoia; he was grinning like a loon. Harry remembered to pack honey because he liked it? The guy could be so thick sometimes and so stupidly sweet. Those little things. Adam wanted to kiss him.

Harry poked him in the side. “What is it?”

He shook his head, “What do you mean, I live in a bubble?”

“Well,” he considered for a second. “How you’re never bothered – or never seem bothered by intrusive behavior. It’s like you don’t notice it.”

“I think,”

“And getting stalked.” Harry charged on quickly when he huffed in irritation, “Bale doesn’t _bother_ you. He _should_. Getting stalked is not an everyday occurrence, Adam. It’s things like that. Sometimes I worry they don’t bother you because you don’t realize how bad they can get. You’re in a bubble.”

Adam looked at him like he was crazy. “Baby, I am not going to sit around worrying about something that may or may not happen. AKA, Bale in this case. What the hell does that achieve?”

Harry scoffed, “Because you don’t realize how dangerous that sort of thing can be. I’m not asking you to worry, I’m saying you should be more aware than you act.”

“Alright, I know you’ve been stalked before, so I am not going to be an ass and claim you’re overreacting, but Bale and your past experience? They’re not the same, Harry. Two complete different situations,” Adam said. He lifted the teabag out of the water, eyed it and the coffee table. Harry cleared his throat and held up a small garbage bin. “Thanks.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be careless about your safety,” Harry said after a minute.

He glanced over at him. “Aren’t you eating anything? You skipped breakfast too. Have you had anything today?” He wracked his brain. They’d eaten on the go early this morning as they caught some awful red-eye flight. Well, he’d eaten a banana. Harry had a cup of coffee and when Adam suggested he have a banana too he’d been leveled with a look and a muttered ‘too early for your sex jokes.’ Which had made him promptly choke on his own serving of potassium. He smirked at the memory. “Funny, they forget something as basic as honey and yet there’s a bunch of bananas in their fruit bowl.”

“Are you changing the subject?” Harry demanded incredulously, eyebrow arching up.

Adam settled back into the couch fully, mug in hand. “Reverting to a previous conversation. And you haven’t eaten. You’re too thin, baby. I’m starting to think it’s because you don’t eat. You know you’re sexy, right? Like, you don’t have any self-esteem issues you’re hiding?” He looked Harry over, enjoying the view more than really feeling concerned. Harry had never displayed discomfort with his body, actually the total opposite, a quality Adam appreciated.

Harry shifted back into the side of the couch, drawing both his legs up onto the cushions. He nudged Adam with a shoe. “Knock that off.”

“What?” Adam sipped his tea, watching his face over the rim.

Harry rolled his eyes. “The sultry staring. I’m immune, so you might as well save the energy.”

Adam laughed. “Sultry, huh?”

Harry groaned, making him flood with warmth. God, flirting with him was too much damn fun. What were they even talking about? He thought back. Oh, right. “How can you not be hungry? You’re worse than Sutan. At least he eats, just bitches about it later.”

“I ate on the plane,” Harry said, staring back at him.

“A bag of peanuts does not count,” he said.

“Two bags,” Harry said. “You forfeited yours.”

“…is that what happened to my peanuts?” Adam elbowed a shin. “Seriously, you stole my peanuts?”

“I ate,” he said mildly.

“I might have wanted those,” Adam complained.

“You hate airline peanuts,” Harry said. “You like those daft little bags of pretzels. Besides, I ate. You don’t have to worry I’ll waste away to nothing.”

He drank a little more tea. Shit, he was ready to drop off. He nudged Harry again, “Scoot the fuck over, hey?”

“Scoot over?” Harry gave an exaggerated look around at his corner of the couch. “Where?”

Adam held his tea away from them both in one hand and edged his way closer. “Legs up, baby.” The look Harry gave him could have sliced a lesser man open with its cutting skepticism, but he shifted around until his legs crooked over Adam’s lap. Adam draped an arm comfortably over his thighs and sunk back into the pillows. “Better.”

“Hmph,” was the only articulate response he got. Adam was just starting to drift away when there came, “Don’t you think there’s something to protect yourself from? With stalkers—Bale, I guess? You should take that seriously, Adam.”

Adam groaned, “Oh my god, baby. Why? Why every time we’re alone—”

“Because I worry,” Harry said sharply. “Forgive me for caring.”

Adam turned his head to stare at his pissy expression. “Sorry, I know. Just… Can we not, today?” Harry sighed, but nodded. He let his eyes drift half closed, settling somewhere between sleep and mind wandering as he enjoyed the view. He barely caught the muttered,

“Bubble.”

He would have thought he imagined it, but he saw his lips moves as Harry fiddled with the hem of his plain grey shirt. “You did not,” Adam whined, torn between amusement and irritation and fucking exhaustion.

Harry glanced up at him innocently. “Haven’t the faintest what you’re on about.”

He squeezed a thigh. “Biiitch. Fine, Bale doesn’t bother me. There, I said it.” The displeased expression on Harry’s face spoke volumes. “Baby, I’ve lived in LA for years. I’ve had some pretty creepy fans already, not really anything big, but one or two, and I could tell some horror stories about some of the guys I’ve dated.

“A bad date is not a stalker,” was his upset response.

“You haven’t heard about Paul yet.” He swallowed the last of his tea, leaned forward and pushed the mug onto the coffee table. “I’m a Lalaland club kid, Harry. I can handle myself, especially with assholes.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Harry insisted. “Have you ever defended yourself against physical assault, Adam?”

“Yes.” He shook his head and smiled at Harry. “Now who’s living in a bubble? You don’t survive in the nightlife of LA without getting in a few disagreements.”

He could see by the reluctant expression he agreed with him. Adam resettled against the pillows again, playing with the rough material of Harry’s jeans and watching the thoughts flitting across his face. “So what happened to you?”

He gave Adam a startled look. “What?”

“Your stalker? What happened that makes you worry so much now?” Adam held on a little tighter as Harry tensed.

“That’s not… I don’t like talking about it.” He fidgeted with his shirt some more.

Adam sighed. He figured the question wouldn’t amount to anything. Harry just didn’t want to let down those particular walls.

“It was all a mess,” Harry said after awhile, running a distracted hand through his hair.

Adam froze, eyes widening. He didn’t want to breathe, in case it distracted Harry from actually talking. The crazy thought came to him that he might be sleeping, because this, this was unreal.

Harry looked at him through lowered lashes. He chewed on his lower lip. “Merlin,” he sighed eventually.

“It’s okay—” Though he really, really wanted to know.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said. “Shit.” He scrubbed at his face.

Adam sat up straighter. He’d been thinking on this very topic for awhile, weeks. “How about I start?” When Harry looked up at him, confusion on his face, he continued, “You’ve been stalked before, pretty obsessively, right? Whoever it was fucked with you enough for you to say stalkers are dangerous. So, you were hurt, or your family was, or both.” He thought back over everything he knew about Harry, all the little details that never added up into a whole.

“It started when I was a baby,” Harry hesitated, and something jumped into Adam’s mind.

“You lived with your uncle, didn’t you?”

“Er, yeah,” he said, frowning, puzzled. “My aunt and uncle, mum’s side.”

“So,” Adam said slowly, “What about your parents?” The thought that something happened to Harry’s parents killed him. God, that would fuck up anyone. When he didn’t answer he hugged Harry’s legs a little closer.

Harry was chewing furiously on his lip again. When he paused to talk it was bruised red, close to bleeding. “They died when I was one.”

When he didn’t go on, Adam couldn’t stop himself from prompting, “The stalker?”

Harry bobbed his head. Adam found himself edging in toward Harry more and sweeping him into his lap. “Okay, you know what, crazy shit like that? You should talk about it.”

He was still tense as hell, not that Adam could blame him. An arm crept around Adam’s shoulder. “I don’t need coddling.”

“It’s not coddling to talk—”

“I mean this,” Harry wiggled. “I’m fine. You didn’t—”

“Oh, shut up,” Adam dropped a kiss on Harry’s head. “Bitch.” He nuzzled in a little, pulling him in tighter against him. He felt Harry’s smile against his jaw more than anything.

“It happened years ago. I adjusted,” he said after a few minutes sitting quietly, his fingers playing idly with the two chains around Adam’s neck. “Talking about it isn’t something… My friends never really needed to deal with that, and no one truly compassionate or well-intentioned ever asked. I’m used to not explaining, or…”

“You learned to deal with it on your own,” Adam supplied.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “My friends had enough to deal with, you know? I hate burdening people.”

Sometimes Adam got the urge to strangle him. “Burden me, okay?”

He snorted. “Adam, I am not going to dump my life story on you.”

“Harry, shut up,” he said. “God, you’re a fucking martyr, you know that? It’s not a crime to share yourself or let others be concerned about you.”

“I—”

“But we’ll work on that,” he added.

“Aren’t you full of yourself,” Harry said. He wiggled again. “You do remember we’re at a recording studio?”

“Who knows when Max will get in. We were early, weren’t we?” He was determined to hold on to Harry awhile longer. He slid down the couch a little more, Harry’s weight pressing into him a little more.

“Over an hour?” Harry shifted himself, resettling so he was half sliding off his lap. “You should rest for awhile. One of your power naps.”

He breathed deeply, settling back and just enjoying the feeling of sitting there together. “You should eat something.”

Harry huffed a little laugh, “We’ve come back where we started.”

Adam smiled, “You could at least eat a banana?”

“Déjà vu,” he said. “What is your obsession with bananas?”

“They’re good for you. Full of potassium. Handy to have on hand,” he replied promptly. “Just one—”

“Why do I feel as though you’re persisting with your banana-dick jokes—”

Someone cleared their throat. Harry craned around and proceeded to slide off his lap. Damn. Adam opened his eyes and craned his head up from the cushion to stare at the interloper.

“If bananas are an issue,” a blond, solid guy with a killer grey wool overcoat spoke, “the apples are delicious. Crisp, not like the usual flavorless crap. The pears, though, are never ripe.”

“Max!” Adam stood, straightening out his clothing. “We didn’t expect you for awhile.”

“I never would have guessed.” He slanted a glance between the two. “You’re about to lose your sunglasses, Mr. Lambert.”

“For the last time, Adam,” he sighed, hand automatically going to his hair, where his sunglasses somehow stuck on, only just sliding off to the side. He tossed them on the couch. “Max, this is Harry Grey, handler, bodyguard, assistant, the whole enchilada. Harry, Max Martin.”

They shook hands. Max nodded, “You two have caused quite a ruckus.”

“Tabloids?” Harry said, “I thought they were quieting down.”

Max arched an eyebrow, “No, outside. There are quite a few dedicated fans hoping for an exit.”

Harry looked at Adam. “We noticed them coming in. I imagine they’ll be gone by the time you two are done. You’re working on two songs today?”

Max’s head bobbed, “Both feeling hot. Can’t wait to get this guy in the studio.”

“Hell yeah,” Adam said. “Can’t wait to get the ball rolling here. Are the others coming in?”

“In a couple hours,” Max said amicably. “Whenever you’re ready, Adam. Are you coming, Mr. Grey?”

“Harry,” Adam said automatically, then sent him a questioning glance. Harry shrugged back at him,

“Harry’s fine. And no, I’ll stay here, probably look around,” he said.

Max snorted, “You two _aren’t_ a couple? You act like one.”

Oh, such a fucking couple, thank-you. Adam wanted to kiss Max. “That is complicated. Was complicated; he’s finally caved to my charms. First week of official dating,” he half hugged Harry. “Don’t burn the room down while I’m gone, baby.”

“Prat,” he grumbled.

Adam blew him a kiss as he left the room with Max. He mentally shelved their conversation to pick at later, because Harry had really left a hundred questions in the wake of the one he answered. The one Adam deduced. Harry was a mystery…wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a tantalizing package of confident, intelligent, sexy roadie. He definitely had a few more conversations to engage. But for now, time to play in the studio, work out exactly what he wanted _Whataya Want From Me_ and _If I Had You_ to feel like.

\----------

  



	6. Chapter 6

  
Harry was a proponent for honesty. He believed in being as honest as he possibly could. In this particular moment, when he said he wanted to look around, he really, honestly meant it. The last half of the sentence simply hadn’t come out. He wanted to look around…for Bale. It was one of the few times he knew he would have the time and privacy to try.

It was an ever more pressing issue in his mind, weighing him down. He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending disaster. He didn’t know what disaster was brewing, but all week he’d felt it pressing into him, settling in, waiting to go off. In the end, it had to be Bale, didn’t it? And after the other day, seeing him there with that damn charm hanging around his neck…

If Bale had his fingers in magic, it turned all of his ideas on their heads. Jack and the others could have very well been right when they voiced concerns about Bale being _Harry’s_ stalker. And if he was Harry’s very own, then how many others knew where he was? How many others knew and cared where he was? How many knew about Adam or the few others he’d dated?

He sighed softly and steeled himself. He knew if Adam—or anyone, for that matter—found out he would kill him. They’d been over the ‘don’t go after Bale’ skit what felt like a thousand times at this point. But now it was more than a stalker issue, it was a magic one, and that was definitely Harry’s area. Jack was not equipped to handle that. He was barely equipped to handle it himself.

He headed back down the hall he and Adam walked only an hour ago and hit up the receptionist’s desk.

The bloke behind the high counter looked up at him. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, is there any available back exit I can use?” He asked. “I arrived a bit conspicuously, you see, and I’d rather not be noticed leaving.”

The receptionist directed him back down the hall to a lift on the other side of the building. “There’s a key code for it. Today it’s 7328. Be sure to remember it to get back in.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and headed back down the length of the hall. He reached the lift with some relief, some part of his mind worrying Adam would catch him at this. Adam, Harry was sure, would pitch a fit. It didn’t matter though. He had to deal with this situation before it got any more out of hand.

Because even worse than Bale being Harry’s stalker, he really could be Adam’s. The Idol singer could have a magical stalker, and that disturbed him on all sorts of new levels. A magical maniac could get away with so much more than a muggle one. A magical one had, well, magic on his side. He could toy with Adam’s head, bend his will, kidnap him in the blink of an eye. Never mind everything else about the wizarding world.

The lift took a lifetime to hit the first and they were only situated on the fifth. He found himself tapping his foot impatiently until the doors slid open with a soft _ding_. He tried not to think of their worlds bleeding over into each other. That couldn’t happen, not yet. Adam could not find out about Harry’s past from a damn newspaper.

The elevator doors emitted him in a back entryway letting out into an employee parking lot. He stepped outside into the bright sun and hot California weather, wishing he’d thought to bring his sunglasses. Standing in this bright morning scenery it was hard to imagine San Francisco had smog problems. The way Leo went on he’d expected to come across a city drowned in murky fog.

He headed out, hitting the pavement to circle back around and check out the fans purportedly still at the building’s main entrance.

There was a charm he distantly remembered from those mad days running from one location to another with one battle party or another. More often than not it was him, Ron, and Hermione, and Hermione took every opportunity to expand his and Ron’s knowledge of curses. They paid attention, because at that point they’d figured out paying attention to ‘Mione helped keep them alive. It was a more complex form of _revelio_. He was half tempted to call Hermione to make sure he remembered how to cast it correctly, but he suspected calling out of the blue after over a year of silence with such a question would invite too many reciprocal questions.

Besides he was nearly positive he remembered it correctly. Well enough.

The front of the building was still surrounded by a small number of fans. There were fewer than there had been, but enough to make him wonder what they expected to happen outside the quiet studio building. He crossed the street and settled himself in a kiosk near the end of the block, settling in to watch. There was no sign of Bale, but then, he didn’t expect there to be.

He unhooked the phone and rested it on the top of the open phonebook, as though he was about to make a call. Then he knelt, tugged up his right trouser leg, and pulled the wand out from the place he’d strapped it last night. He could do a bit of wandless magic, but having a channel made it so much simpler and far less draining. He never quite worked out how Dumbledore managed so many wandless charms without any visible effort.

Straightening, he focused back out the grimy glass doors. Flicking his wand, he murmured, “ _specialis revelio_.” There was nothing at first as he strained to see the entire area, then a spot on the far side from his kiosk shimmered a little, the way heat became visible on a scorching hot day in the desert. He focused on it as it narrowed and started darkening into a human shape.

It was definitely Bale. He smiled to himself in grim satisfaction. Bale didn’t appear to notice anything unusual. He hadn’t expected him to, but it was still some small relief.

He absently picked up the dead phone and placed it against his ear as he stared out the glass. He would wait here for as long as he could. If Bale didn’t move off in an hour or so Harry would give in and offer up a little incentive. For now he preferred to stay out of sight.

What he forgot about stakeouts was how bloody boring they got. The minutes ticked past slowly. At first Harry barely took his eyes off his prey. Bale was leaning against a lamppost, eyes trained on the entrance to the building. After a good 45 minutes Bale hadn’t budged an inch even though most of the other fans began moving off. Harry started checking his watch. At half past the first hour he began checking it obsessively. Only a handful of fans were left, three women chatting together and Bale off to the side.

He gave up with the phone and hooked it back on its stand. He bounced in restless frustration. Surely Bale had to give up soon. Even the women were beginning to fidget and looked ready to call it quits.

They did, fifteen minutes later. Bale barely moved. Harry growled to himself. He was on two hours, and bloody hell, Adam would discover his absence soon. He had to get a move on with this. He hung out for another half hour, gave up and yanked the booth door open.

All it took for Bale to notice him was Harry crossing the street and heading up the pavement. Bale looked up at the movement reflexively. He still didn’t move, only watched as Harry neared. Harry stared at a point just off the left of Bale, hoping he wouldn’t tip off his quarry that he was on to him.

Bale started shifting and edging away the closer Harry came up the block. Twenty meters off he began trotting the opposite direction. Harry picked up his pace after him, dashing to catch up as Bale turned a corner. When he ran around the edge of the corner building he saw Bale already a block down, running. He broke out into a dead run after him. He was not getting away this time.

They ran several blocks, up, across, and down. He got the distinct and satisfying feeling Bale didn’t have bloody clue where he was going. Harry may not know the terrain, but it looked like Bale didn’t either. If it was a little less crowded he’d send a curse flying and topple the bastard, but as it was, he had to get Bale somewhere more secluded. There would be fewer risks of bystanders: victims or witnesses.

He was more than a little surprised when Bale led them both down an alleyway. It was wide and streaming with light from the noon sun and it was clearly a dead end.

At the far side Bale tugged at a heavy metal door before he collapsed against it, gasping.

Harry slowed down, keeping an eye on him as he approached. A cursory inspection of the alley and Bale’s outright frustrated behavior told him there were no traps set up.

A couple meters off he came to a stop, absently running the tip of a finger against the smooth wood of the wand clutched tightly in his hand.

“How did you see me?” Bale asked after a minute, turning around and leaning against the door, still panting heavily.

He stared at him, a bloke who really didn’t look like much of anything. Average height, little muscle tone, and pale with yellow straw-like hair. He considered for a second before speaking. “You’re not as clever as you think you are.”

Bale’s expression twisted into fury. “I should have knifed you when I had the chance. Done the world a favor.”

He held his ground, but he really wanted to step back from the obvious venom in the man’s eyes. He shook his head, “You were after me the entire time.”

Bale laughed outright, pure acid. “I’m going to follow you around for one of _them_? Those filthy, repulsive muggles?” He spat, mouth curled. “We’re not all eager to fuck a muggle like you, Potter.”

Harry stared. “You’re a purist?”

Bale’s chin lifted. “We are a superior race. You destroyed our cause, left us to be mixed with them,” he jerked his head toward the street. “Like it’s acceptable behavior to fraternize.”

“You’re a squib,” Harry said incredulously. “You’re after me because I got rid of Voldemort? He would have crushed you like a piece of shit. You were nothing to him, worse than a muggle.”

Bale hissed. “Shut up. _Shut up_. I am pure. I am nothing like those insects. I am useful. The cornerstone—”

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry said. “You’re a nutter. Look, I could do the whole spiel about muggles aren’t less than us and all that, but you’re not really going to go in for that, are you?”

Bale spat at him.

“I might also point how in your logic I am superior to you by the simple fact I can hex your head off with a flick of my wand.” He raised it, more as a point than as a threat.

Bale braced himself against the door. “Go ahead. Kill me.”

He snorted in disbelief. “You’ve got to be… Merlin.” It was moments like these beating someone’s head against a wall sounded like a good plan. He didn’t know if it’d be more productive for it to be his own or this bastard’s. “I don’t really have time for this, you know? I want an oath from you you’ll leave me and Adam and everyone else on the tour alone. A magically binding oath.”

Bale glowered. “You’ll have to kill me, Potter. I won’t stop. I’ll keep tracking you down. But first I’ll put that smug little pet of yours out of his misery. I’ll do the same for every single muggle you take up with.”

Harry felt ice water rush down his spine, causing gooseflesh to prickle out all over his skin. He tightened his grip reflexively on his wand, twisting it, and Bale went flying across the alley into the opposite brick wall. He collapsed to the alley ground in a heap.

Harry slowed stepped forward until he was towering over the groaning heap. He leaned down. “I have seen and done worse things than you can possibly imagine in that walnut sized brain of yours. There is _nothing_ you can do that could horrify or even shock me. If you think I will hesitate in dealing with a shit like you, you are very, very mistaken. One. Finger. On Adam or anyone else, you’ll be finished.”

The only response he received was a pained groan. He stepped back. This bloke couldn’t even handle a little run-in with a wall. He suddenly had serious doubts about any harm Bale could inflict. But that wasn’t something he could really risk. Not with Adam’s life.

He frowned and bit his lip, staring down at the figure as Bale slowly regained more and more energy. Harry couldn’t leave him here. He couldn’t kill him. He couldn’t exactly turn him in without any evidence. …at least, not to the muggle police. Aurors, on the other hand…

He sighed. He really did not want to deal with a bunch of aurors with their noses stuck up their arses. He’d had enough of that the one year he stuck around England after the war. He looked around for something, anything he could use. All he could spot was a lamppost halfway back up the alley. It would do, he supposed.

Bale was just sitting up. Harry flicked his wand again and ropes sprung out from the end, whipping through the air to wind around Bale’s wrists, drawing them tightly together. Then he levitated him over to the lamppost and set another rope whipping around Bale’s arms and torso and the sturdy metal of the lamppost.

He strolled over and met enraged brown eyes. “I’m not going to bother apologizing here, Bale. You threatened me as well as several others. Did you think I would let you go loose and risk putting my friends in danger?”

“You’re going to leave me tied here?” Bale snarled. “Someone will see me and untie me eventually.”

“Your logic is awful,” he said with a shake of his head. “You want a despicable muggle to free your ‘superior’ arse? There’s a boost to your self-esteem. Of course, that’s assuming the right sort of muggle finds you. Not all of them are nice and, often, the mean ones like their alleys. That’s also assuming anyone can see you wearing this lovely piece of metalwork.” Harry lifted the length of cord away from Bale’s chest, the thin disk of metal shone dully in the light. He eyed the engraved runes with some interest.

When he looked up he saw Bale’s horrified expression. “Relax, I’m not leaving you here to rot.” He tugged hard on the necklace, the cord snapping and slithering to hang from his grip. “There. Now the aurors will be able to see you.”

“Aurors?” Bale asked sharply. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s a matter of perspective, isn’t it?” Harry responded absently as he looked around. There was nothing to write on, was the problem. Of course, why would there be in an ally? He walked over to one wall and picked up a waterlogged plastic bag that had most assuredly seen better days. One spell transfigured it into a usable, if somewhat off-colored piece of paper. He dug the now constant sharpie out of his pocket and scribbled a lengthy note.

When he was satisfied he got all the salient points down he signed it with a flourish. Bale was watching him uneasily. It was about time the git felt some of the pain he’d been inflicting on everyone else.

“They’ll never hold me. I haven’t done anything illegal,” Bale said, an edge of fear creeping in his voice.

“I know,” he told him solemnly. “That’s why I’m leaving them a little gift.” He transfigured the sharpie into a thin, black vial before raising his wand to his head. He closed his eyes against Bale’s alarmed expression and focused on the memory he wanted to capture. He carefully pulled his wand away, a thin silver strand following. It slid into the vial and he sealed it before wrapping the note around the vial and casting a sticking charm. He tucked it between the rope and Bale’s torso. “That should convince them to press charges, mate.”

One last spell and he could get the hell out of here. Merlin knew what Adam was getting up to or thinking while Harry was out here dealing with this shit situation. He raised his wand straight in the air and cast a basic spell that would nonetheless send officials running to the scene in a flurry, because it would mess with every piece of muggle technology within a decent block radius.

“Don’t worry, Bale, you’ll be picked up any minute now.”

Harry walked out of the alley and couldn’t quite stop the grin as he saw the nearest stoplights gone dead and traffic accidentally deadlocked. A huge weight felt lifted off his shoulders. Bale was out their damn lives.

His mood didn’t wane even as he realized he had no clue where he was. He vaguely recognized the street they’d last run down on and started walking back up it. It was slow progress, stopping at every intersection, but he hung around at each spot until something became familiar again. He was surprised to find they’d run a few circles and were only two blocks off the studio.

He was a little worried to see the stoplight at that intersection was out too. He took a minute to step into the kiosk he’d used earlier to check the phone, finding it dead. Bugger. That meant the studio building was probably on the fritz. If it was, Adam undoubtedly discovered Harry’s absence.

He glanced down at his watch, unsure how long he’d been gone at this point. It was dead too. He groaned. Now he remembered why he hated that bloody spell and why government officials did too. Back at the Weasleys’ Arthur would give him an earful for causing so much chaos and paperwork.

He steeled himself and headed across the deadlocked road, ignoring the honking horns of aggravated drivers. Inside the door the receptionist waved him down.

“Sorry, sir, the elevators are out. Do you have an appointment?” She asked, moving closer to her computer and then stopping. She gave it a dismayed look. “That is, my appointment logs are unavailable at the moment…”

Harry smiled brightly at her. “I can take the stairs. I’m here with Mr. Lambert today. Oh!” He dug into his jeans pocket, only just remembering they both had been given passes that morning. “Here, visitor’s pass.”

“Alright, but the elevators,” she sat back down in her chair. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. They should be back up momentarily, if you’d care to wait.”

“Really, the stairs are fine. They’re over there?” He motioned to the left and headed over at her nod. He knew the lifts wouldn’t be running for at least another hour. The wizarding clean-up crew had to clear the disruption spell from the air. Harry had cast it a tad stronger than he meant. He hoped it wasn’t too much of a bother.

Adam was lounging their private waiting room when he walked through the door.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled from his spot on the far couch. “Where’ve you been?”

“Went for a little walk,” he said, heading toward the kitchenette. “I thought you’d be in the booth with Max for awhile longer. Something wrong? The lifts were out when I got back.”

“Yeah, power went out in the building about half an hour ago. Seemed a natural place to take a break,” Adam laughed softly. “Tried to call you when you weren’t here, but even my phone’s on the fritz. Weird.”

“Your phone’s related to the building electricity?” Harry chuckled. He hoped Adam didn’t do that uncanny bit where he saw right through Harry’s cover.

“Mmm, yeah, really weird.” He could feel Adam watching him, but when he turned around his eyes were closed fast.

“You should rest. Sleep,” he amended.

Blue eyes slit open, glimmering under eyelashes. “Did you eat anything?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I’ll eat now. Walking made me realize I was hungrier than I thought.” He glanced back at the kitchen. There were a few microwavable bowls of noodles and soup in the cupboards, he knew, but that sounded far from appealing. Maybe an apple, or one of the power bars they’d brought along.

Adam scooted over until he hit the back of the couch. “C’mon. Grab something and we can nap together.”

Harry grabbed food from the duffle bag and headed over to the couch, settling in carefully. “Sorry your session was interrupted, love.”

Adam’s breath puffed through his hair. “It’s not your fault. Shit happens.”

“Still.” He dug the raisin-oat bar out of its wrapper, breaking off a piece.

Adam’s lips fluttered across his temple and his arm made its way snuggly around his chest. “We needed a break. “It’s fucking sick though. The tracks are going to be sick. Come back with me for the last half. Whenever we get up and running again.”

Harry smiled at the power bar. “Would love to.”

“You don’t need to go explore the streets of San Francisco again?” He hummed into his hair.

Harry wondered if Adam suspected anything. “Nope, I’m good.” He twisted and kicked around a bit until he was lying on his back.

Adam was making a face at him. “Comfortable?”

“Mostly,” he grinned up at him and popped another piece of flavorless oatmeal bar into his mouth. He chewed slowly and studied Adam, who was staring right back with a quizzical expression. After he swallowed he said, “So, you’ll get done a bit later than expected then?”

His nose scrunched. “Yeah, we’ll probably push it as far as we can.”

He nodded, “Makes sense. If we get to the airport early enough want to grab a late, er, very late dinner at that little restaurant we saw on our way in? With all the palm trees?”

Adam blinked down at him, looking for all the world like he couldn’t process Harry’s question. “Why Mr. Grey, are you asking me out on a date?”

He laughed in startlement. That wasn’t what he was expected. “Suppose I am, yeah.” The brilliant smile that bloomed across Adam’s face made their entire struggle until this point worth every second. Harry couldn’t help thinking he wanted to put that smile on Adam’s face as often as he could manage.

Adam leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss at the very corner of Harry’s mouth. Then his tongue flicked out, teasing. “I would love to.”

“It’s a date then,” Harry smiled. He flicked the wrapped over onto the coffee table. “Rain check if it blows up in our faces and we end up dashing to the airport in an effort not to miss our flight?”

Adam burst out laughing. “Yeah, rain check, but we’ll get out early enough. I have a feeling.”

\----------

As it happened, they didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee at the airport, let alone anything resembling dinner. Harry hadn’t been surprised. Adam was dedicated to making his album; he’d only been working toward that goal since he got far enough on _American Idol_ to guarantee he _could_ make an album.

Only they didn’t find much time on the other side of the flight either. Angie arranged for a van to pick them up at the airport and hustled Adam straight into the sound check for Portland. Adam made a crack about singing from one point of the country to the other before vanishing from Harry’ sight.

Now here they were, four days later, three shows later, and preparing for their very last in Manchester, New Hampshire. They had spent barely five minutes spent alone since San Francisco. Harry and Adam were both either working or in meetings. Even on the bus they couldn’t catch a break, caught somewhere between the antics of six grown men stuck in a tin can or catching as much sleep as they could before the next major event occurred. It was maddening. It was dawning on Harry he didn’t have much more time with Adam that he could take for granted.

He shoved the wheeled wardrobe out of the hall and into the long, narrow room it would be needed in, in just a few short hours. Their last show. He was having a bit of a hard time wrapping his mind around that one and he wasn’t handling it as well as he could either. It felt like the tour had gone on forever, and equally like it shouldn’t end.

“So this is where you’re hiding,” Adam’s head ducked into the room, all eyeliner and smiles. “Are you too busy for a questionable cup of coffee?”

Harry glanced at him in the mirror. “You’re not ducking out on your last interviews for the tour, surely.”

“The interviewer called. Stuck in traffic apparently,” he chuckled. “Something about a parade downtown. Now we’ll be doing it in an hour and, failing that, over the phone. Need any help?”

“Not really.” He edged another trunk out of the way against the wall. “Sorting a few things out so there’s a little less chaos later. I could go for coffee.”

“Great!” He vanished for a second and then reappeared, this time walking fully into the room and bearing two steaming Styrofoam cups. “I came prepared.”

Harry eyed the cups suspiciously. “You weren’t kidding about the questionable part, eh?”

Adam’s smile broadened. He shrugged a shoulder and promptly froze as the hot liquid sloshed dangerously up the side of the cup. “Can’t win ‘em all,” he said when it stilled enough to hand off. “But it’s a handy excuse to not get pulled aside in the hallways.”

Harry grinned, “That makes these, what camouflage coffees?”

“More like,” he hummed, “ah, defensive shield coffees.”

Harry watched him look over the trunk he’d moved five minutes ago, considering it. “It’s solid. We can sit on it. Not like there are other options around.”

Adam sat, jeans and belt buckle tugging at his shirt. He patted the space next to him. “C’mon, baby. You need to take a minute. Whatever happened to good old fashioned coffee breaks?”

“What in the world says ‘old fashioned’ about either of us?” Harry sat down. He took careful sip of the coffee. It was hot enough to burn and that was its sole promising quality. He discreetly set it on the floor to the side.

Adam, watching him, followed suit.

“You’re not going to try it?” Harry asked.

“I know how to learn by other people’s mistakes,” he said blithely.

“Prat.” It’d be far more enjoyable to share the misery of terrible coffee, in his humble opinion. “It’s not every day you get the opportunity to taste coffee that carries the flavor of dirty water.”

He laughed, “I’ll take that risk, baby.”

Harry watched Adam stare at him from the mirror across from them. “I can see you, love. Penny for your thoughts?”

“Something’s been bothering you,” he said. “Last few days? Want to talk about it?”

“Ah.” He suddenly wished he had his cup of coffee back off the floor so he had something to distract himself with. Picking it up now would be a little too far past the point of obvious. Adam slid closer and he subconsciously leaned into the newfound heat source. “Mostly it’s how chaotic the days have been. What are you going to do now, tomorrow?”

Tonight, he knew, they would crash at their last hotel. The Idols had flights out to their respective homes tomorrow as well as half the crew. Harry wasn’t entirely sure what his plans were yet.

An elbow bumped gently into his side. “Mind coming back to planet earth, baby? Or if you’re going to stay out in orbit, take me up with you.”

Harry flashed him a brief smile. “I’m at a bit of a loss.”

Adam blinked. “You’re coming back to LA, aren’t you?”

He nodded absently. “I’m not flying, I don’t think, but the busses are heading back there to unload. I’ll be in LA in a few days.”

“I assumed you were flying with me,” Adam said, sounding surprised. “Jack’s been muttering something like that.” He flapped a hand. “Bale, you know? Jack’s very insistent with management me and Kris have bodyguards when we leave. You do want to stay in LA awhile, don’t you?”

Harry stared up at him in surprise. “I… Yeah, ‘course I do. I didn’t think… I didn’t know Jack was arranging bodyguards, which, by the way, I am not technically. I mean, well, I _am_ , but officially, I’m not.” He grimaced, “Yeah, that made a lot of sense, didn’t it?”

Adam chuckled and slid an arm over his shoulder. “Crazy as it might sound, I understood everything you just said. If you’ll recall, Angie signed some form or another awhile back, declaring you hired as official security. And you know what a bulldog Jack can be about something when he sets his mind on a goal.”

“I do not endorse being Jack’s ‘goal.’” Harry pushed his weight into Adam’s side.

“He’s getting you a job,” he protested.

“He’s being a bloody matchmaker.”

“Since when?” Adam was laughing again, entirely entertained by the idea. Harry pushed into him again.

“Merlin only knows, but he’s been all for us going on weeks now,” he said.

“Really? I should send him flowers. Or maybe some of those butter cookies. He’s crazy for them. Keeps stealing them from the snack tables.” Adam broken into fresh peals of laughter, doubling over. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not that funny,” he protested. “It’s not funny at all.”

“It’s hilarious,” he said. “Shit. Thank god for waterproof eyeliner.”

Harry chuckled entirely despite himself. “Serves you right.”

“Hey, kids,” Jack appeared in the doorway. Adam cracked up again. The bulky guard eyed him with some annoyance. “Adam, you’re supposed to be in the green room. Your interview started five minutes ago.”

Adam waved him off, still laughing hysterically.

Harry rolled his eyes. It was his turn to elbow Adam. “You said it was put off, that your interviewer was late?”

Jack answered, “She was, but traffic miraculously cleared sometime between then and now. Harry, I wanted to have a word with you, if wonderboy here would kindly get a move on to his own work.”

Adam caught his breath. “Sorry. It was a speak of the devil moment.” He was smirking broadly as he tipped his head closer and dropped a brief kiss on Harry’s lips. “Let him send you to LA tomorrow, baby,” he said quietly. “You can crash at my place.”

He got up and headed out the door, biting his lip and grinning broadly as he slid past Jack

Jack turned to him. “Do I want to know?”

“My instinct says no,” Harry said.

He harrumphed, “If this showboat went on any longer our wonderboy would be the death of me. You can come back to this later, let’s head up to my office.”

“Whatever for?” Harry asked. He barely remembered to grab the abandoned cups of coffee as he trailed Jack out of the room.

“You weren’t planning on drinking those?” Jack nodded at the Styrofoam.

“Since I don’t want to drop from stomach poisoning, no,” he tossed them in a bin as they passed. “What’s this about, Jack?”

“There’s a nice way of describing that dreck. I got my little pot running in the office. We can have a decent cup there,” Jack said.

“Jack,” Harry griped, “Why is your hearing suddenly selective?”

“Ha! It’s always been selective, kiddo,” he said. He nodded at a passing roadie. “Melanie wants you out front, Joe.”

Harry fell into silence and simply fell to following along, nodding and calling greeting at the occasional passerby. Jack was clearly not going to talk until they were ensconced safely in his office. He could do without the intrigue.

Jack’s latest office was just off the amphitheatre’s personal holding cell, occasionally employed for a rowdy, and often drunk, concert-attendee. It was dark and cramped and stacked with Jack’s miscellaneous papers and gadgets. A small six-cup coffee pot sat carefully and protectively in one corner, four white mugs stacked beside it. Harry poured them both a cup, handing one off. They drank it black. Harry suspected Jack didn’t believe in coffee additives like sugar or cream. It suited him fine; Harry wasn’t picky about his coffee.

“That’s the real stuff,” Jack nodded his approval. He sat one of the two available seats. “So, you got plans?”

Harry waited until he was sure Jack had no intention of elaborating on that. “For after the tour? Nothing’s come up.”

“Good, I got you a job,” he said, full of satisfaction.

Harry blinked. He knew very well what it was from his conversation with Adam, but he still felt the perverse desire to play coy. “I’ll be heading back to Hollywood with the buses then? Unloading, getting everything stored away?”

Jack, much to his amusement, positively glowered. “Cute.”

“That’s cute?” He arched his eyebrows in feigned innocence. “What do—”

“Alright, knock it off. I got you a job as Adam’s bodyguard. Angie was surprisingly supportive of the idea, but then, she’s seen what you can do as long as I have. The suits on the other end of the phone took a little more convincing, but I _am_ convincing.” He gave a broad, toothy smile.

Harry took a drink of coffee, blessedly strong, thinking. “Adam will need a new bodyguard eventually.”

Jack looked skeptical. “Planning on going somewhere?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “You might as well know we’re dating now,”

Jack snorted, “I already knew that.”

“And it’s not appropriate for me to work for him and date him,” he finished, ignoring the interruption.

He nodded in slow acknowledgment. “True enough. However, until this Bale matter is resolved. You and me know the case best, and a handful of others. Most of us have work we’re moving on to. I’m heading over to New York for a short gig. I want someone around who knows what to watch for, what to do.”

Harry felt an upwelling of guilt. Blast.

Jack caught something in his expression. He leaned forward in his chair. “Did something happen?”

“What do you mean?” He asked. He contemplated the plusses and negatives of telling Jack, the same way he’d thought about them the last four days. If he told Jack the man could relax and take appropriate steps to wheel back protection. Perhaps he could put Adam, Kris, and everyone else at ease. Yet… If he told him, there would be all the questions of how, and why, and what Harry had done with the body.

“Harry,” he spoke in low tones. “I hate to break it to your deluded soul, but when someone knows what to look for you’re a damn easy read.”

Harry grimaced, “I thought that was a trick only Adam picked up.”

“What happened?”

He sighed and sat in the other chair. “I dealt with Bale.” There was a minute’s stunned silence followed by,

“Come again?”

Harry stared straight at him. “I caught up with him in San Francisco. I didn’t know how to tell you or anyone else. I am not sure I honestly should.”

Jack’s eyebrows went up. “What’d you do? Damn, how did you find him? You can’t have taken him to the police. There would have been checks called in here to verify. Never mind the media catching wind.” He considered Harry. “Is this something I need to be concerned about?”

Harry snorted, “Concerned about? You’re worried you’ll have to turn me into the police now, Jack? No, I didn’t do anything daft. He’s alive and well and certainly in prison by this point.”

“In prison?” Jack asked. “Anything in there about individual rights and due process?”

“Of course,” he was startled by the mere idea of skipping that part, of skipping _justice_. Though he didn’t know for certain, did he? “Er, I think so?” He offered an apologetic look. “I didn’t follow up on it, to be honest with you. I sent him to the…police with enough evidence to put him away. He was certainly guilty enough.”

“Our evidence was always sketchy, Harry,” he reminded. “We don’t – didn’t know for certain who he was stalking, let alone his threat level. We simply had to take all due precaution with the way he slipped in and out of the place.”

Harry nodded grimly, “His intentions were bad, Jack. That evidence I sent was a…recording of him spewing hate and threatening…” He really did not want to think about it. He breathed out a slow sigh, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“Threatened what?” Jack asked.

He sighed again. So much for getting rid of tension. “Adam. Kris. A lot of people. Threatened to kill them, me. You. Anyone who rubbed him the wrong way.”

They sat in silence for awhile. “Celebrity stalkers don’t usually present murderous intent toward their victims,” Jack said finally, looking over to Harry sharply. “What was he tailing us for? Did he say?”

He felt the hot flush of anger and guilt creep up over his cheeks. “Me, Jack. You were right, he was focused on me.” There was no point in hiding it. It was important to make sure Jack understood Adam was out of danger, along with the others.

Jack nodded calmly. “And he’s taken care of?”

“Quite.”

“Legally?”

“Yes. Entirely, Jack.”

“Alright. Can’t blame me for wondering, kiddo.” Another silence fell. Harry brooded until Jack spoke up again, “Still signing you up to bodyguard Adam. We’ll just ‘forget’ to sign this form sitting on my desk her contracting you for the new few months. It’ll get you back to LA quick enough, and the two of you can muddle through what it is you want to do that side of the country. Sound good?”

Harry smiled gratefully. “Sounds perfect, Jack, thanks.”

“Flight leaves tomorrow, bright and early. Get your things packed tonight,” he advised.

“Three months on tour and I still don’t have all that much to deal with,” he reassured. “Maybe two bags, if that.”

Jack nodded, still thoughtful. “Have you told Adam?”

Harry sent him a questioning glance.

“About Bale?”

“Oh.” Bugger, he thought. “No, I’m not sure how. Or if I should.”

“You should tell him Bale’s out of the picture,” Jack said. “How or why, that’s up to you.

Harry nodded silently. That was the complicated part, wasn’t it?

\----------

“Home sweet home,” Adam said, twisting his key in the door and elbowing it open. He led the way into the tight, dark entryway that went on five feet before blooming into the small living room with the three windows on one wall. “It’s a dump, but a thousand times better than a bus.”

“I think that’s the third time you’ve said that.” Harry sounded too amused. Adam glanced back at him, watching as he pushed his sunglasses up and looked around. “Posh. More than most places I take up in anyway. You need a new couch though. It looks ready to collapse.”

He glanced over worn suede cushions. “I’ve had that since I tried out the whole college life. It bit the dust years ago. Make yourself comfortable, baby.”

He strolled back out to the door. His three suitcases and two bags lined the narrow corridor. He started hauling them inside. If he thought about it he couldn’t fathom how he’d squeezed this shit on a bus for three full months. Never mind all the gifts from his fans, which management had thankfully stored for him until he could go through it all.

After making sure everything was wedged in the entryway, and juggling a little to squeeze the door shut, he headed back into the living room. Harry had dumped his two duffle bags on the floor next to the coffee table – he would like to know just how one traveled for months with just two bags of supplies, dammit – and was walking the length of the walls, peering at the pictures framed and hanging there.

Adam let him be and headed into the kitchen, separated from the living room by a short bar. They would have to go shopping, he was sure. Before the start of Idol he had made sure to throw everything perishable out and he’d never kept a lot of other things.

Turning around, he found Harry leaning on the bar, watching him. “The photos, are they friends or art?”

He laughed, “Both. Lee can’t help himself. Most of it’s from Lee anyway. There are a couple things from friends or art festivals.”

He nodded, sliding onto one of the two oak barstools, quiet and thoughtful. He’d been quiet all day, not that Adam could blame him. They barely slept for all the last minute packing and partying and goodbyes. Then they all made a run for the airport. He and Harry took the longest flight known to man with a two hour delay thrown in for kicks. But Adam was innately a social soul. He knew it. Yeah, he went through periods of “Adam time” and solitude, but when he was with someone, he liked…being _with_ them. And Harry had left the building. He was reaching the point of prodding him just to see what fell out.

“We’ll have to go shopping,” he said eventually, but he turned and tugged the fridge open anyway. “There might be something to drink… Or it might be crammed full of food.” He stared for a little bit. Was he tired enough to be hallucinating? He didn’t think so. He’d gone without sleep for way longer than this without imagining things. Exactly 68 hours, in fact. He closed the fridge and reopened it. Nope, it was all still there: milk, his favorite cheese, iced tea, a ceramic dish that looked suspiciously like a casserole.

“There’s a note on the counter, love,” Harry said.

Sure enough, next to the stove there was a note with his mom’s tidy cursive telling him not to worry and everything was taken care of. She’d call him when she was sure he was in. “Never mind shopping then. Mom’s been sneaking around here.”

“That’s thoughtful,” he said.

“Yeah.” Really, maybe he could prod _a little_. He was just working out how to politely phrase a ‘what the fuck is up?’ When Harry blurted out,

“I caught Bale.”

He was pretty sure his brain froze. Just stopped working at those words and then fell apart from the lack of motion. He cleared his throat. “What?”

Harry picked at his fingernails, staring at them intently. “I caught Bale. In San Francisco. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He stared at him for awhile. Finally he said the only thing that kept circling back to the front of his mind. “So that’s why you’ve been so distant.”

Harry looked up, blinking owlishly behind his round glasses. They stared at each other. “That’s it?”He asked eventually.

Adam huffed, “What do you want me to say? I must be getting used to your secretive habits.” Mostly he was relieved this didn’t have something to do with their relationship. He wasn’t sure he could handle Harry backpedalling out of it.

A soft thump resounded in the quiet room as Harry dropped his head on the counter. “That’s… I am not sure that’s a good thing at all.”

He shrugged and shuffled around to the cupboards and pulled out two tall glasses before hitting up the fridge again. “I get you have secrets, Harry. Everyone does, in fact. I don’t care what you’re hiding. You’ll tell me eventually, when you’re ready to.”

A pathetic groan came from the barstool. “You’re too fucking nice, Adam.”

Adam grinned into the fridge as he pulled the iced tea out. “I am, I really am. Practically a fucking saint.” There was a grumbling noise. He turned and set the glass of tea next to the mop of black hair.

Harry straightened up with another grumble. “Bale,” he said finally, after Adam settled on the other stool, facing Harry, “Was in San Francisco. I know you asked me not to go chasing after him, but it was an opportunity I wasn’t letting slip by.”

He made a noise of complaint. Harry bumped him with his knee. “Jack wasn’t even there if something had happened,” he said despite the silent reproach. “And you didn’t tell me – which you said you would, FYI – and what the hell would I have done if you hadn’t come back?”

“I came back,” he said softly, watching Adam closely.

“You might not have,” he responded firmly and stared right back, hoping he would get his point across.

A smile fluttered across Harry’s face and vanished just as quickly, eyes dark with, what, Adam wasn’t sure. He wanted to think it was something dramatic, like the weight of this conversation. Harry leaned forward, stretched his arms around Adam’s shoulders and neck, tugging lightly until Adam conceded and slipped forward a little until their foreheads bumped together. Adam slid a foot to the floor to brace them both and settled an arm around Harry’s waist. It was an awkward position yet still somehow comfortable.

“Adam,” he said softly, “I will always come back. Whatever happens. Stalkers or other psychotics. Life doesn’t beat me that easily. I’ll always come back.”

“Cocky,” he hummed, chucking despite himself. Somehow, he could believe it coming from Harry. It came with that confident, cool personality type, the one that always screamed it’d seen the world and nothing could phase it. That really fucking attractive quality that just made Adam itch to find ways to surprise him.

Harry pulled back reluctantly. “I caught Bale and he’s been arrested. I didn’t… I have some connections with the police and so when I turned him in it was kept quiet. The media won’t pick up on it, not that they ever worked out there was a stalker in the first place. Jack didn’t know about it either until I told him yesterday so he could manage things with your security. I didn’t want you worrying about him anymore though.” He huffed, “If you were in the first place.”

Yeah, Adam was so not telling him Bale only freaked him out when Harry went tearing after him like some goddamn bloodhound. He quirked a smile at his questioning look instead.

“Bugger,” Harry muttered, rubbing an irritated hand up along the back of his neck. “You’re terrible at taking precautions.”

He could not help laughing at that. “You are so not allowed to bitch about me and my precautions. You run after some lunatic with no one knowing and no one able to help you if you get in trouble? Precaution fail, baby.”

Harry made a face at him. “I could say I’m trained and it’s not the same thing.”

“Fail,” he insisted before swatting Harry’s thigh. “You were a policeman in a past life? You never mentioned it.” It was pretty easy to guess though. The tour’s entire crew had some bet or another going about Harry’s past activities.

“Mm, yeah, for about a year,” he said. “The regulations were tedious and the hours hideous so I gave it up.”

“Was there a uniform?” He inquired as innocently as he could which, if he was honest with himself, was probably not particularly innocent. Especially if Harry’s raised eyebrow was any indication.

“Of course. I wasn’t in a special division.”

He hummed appreciatively. “Still got it?”

His lips twitched. “I have all of two pieces of baggage, and I know you’ve dug through them on a few occasions. Have you seen a police uniform?”

He pouted, “No.”

“I had no idea you liked a bloke in uniform, love.” He was trying not to smirk. Adam wasn’t having any of that. He pulled Harry forward suddenly, still having his arm draped around his back. Harry tumbled forward against his torso, his grip tightening reflexively around Adam’s neck.

“I like my roadie in all kinds of outfits,” he informed his disoriented catch. “Including his current pair of jeans and shirt which, FYI, is so last decade.”

Harry let out a breathless laugh. “You’re a—”

Surprise kisses were always fun, in his opinion. Caught completely unawares, the kiss went straight from nonexistent to full hot and heavy, tongue and heat and intensity. Adam really was a fan of them. Harry’s fingers were tangling in his hair, catching slightly in the product at the roots and holding him in close. Adam flicked his tongue across Harry’s, over his teeth, pulled back slightly to nip and suck at his lower lip. His palm rested along his throat, fingers brushing against the hair of Harry’s neck, exerting enough control to push and guide him exactly where he wanted him.

He could kiss Harry for hours. It sounded like the best damn plan he’d had since deciding to try out for Idol in the first place. But they could not stay in the kitchen. It would get too uncomfortable way too quickly.

Reluctantly he pulled away, groaning in disappointment at the loss of contact. Harry tried to follow his retreat, but Adam pulled back further, hand still braced against Harry’s neck. “Want to see the rest of the apartment?” He asked breathlessly.

The incredulous and pissed expression on Harry’s face warmed him to the toes. He was such a sick fuck, but he loved knowing how much he affected Harry. Loved it. Would do almost anything to see it. He smiled happily, bright and purposely obliviously. “The bathroom’s through the bedroom, and a bore unless you want to shower.” At Harry’ entirely unimpressed response, he continued, “But the bedroom’s…definitely something to check out. My picky about my mattress. It has to be comfortable. Top of the line comfortable. We should go try it out.”

And he couldn’t get more obvious than that, could he? Harry’s distinctly less displeased expression agreed with him.

“You are bloody lucky, Lambert,” he growled out, wincing slightly and rubbing at bitten his lip. “And it better be a brilliant mattress.”

Adam wanted to do a happy dance. Actually, he wanted to drag Harry into his bed and ravish him. So he did, catching his hand and pulling him along to the door across the room.

Harry didn’t resist, following close behind him. He peripherally heard one thud followed by another as Harry kicked his shoes off. Adam did not waste any time, simply led them straight to the bed and tumbled them both into it.

“Um,” Harry laughed as he bounced, “We might’ve gotten undressed first, love. Hard to fuck this way.”

Adam slid over his hips and looked down at him quizzically. He was already undoing Harry’s belt buckle and when he pulled on it Harry lifted his hips helpfully. “We’ll be doing a hell of a lot before we even get to fucking,” he said, bubbly and possibly a little high on sleep-deprivation and Harry. Definitely on Harry, yeah.

Harry was fighting off a grin. Adam flicked the button of his jeans open and slid the zipper down slowly. He brushed his knuckles purposely against Harry’s half hard cock as he slid his hands under the waistband of his jeans to pull them down. The smile turned into a groan as his insanely green eyes widened. He pushed his hips up into the light pressure of Adam’s hand.

Adam was going to have so much fun finding all the things that forced an involuntary noise from Harry. Like the way he hummed, nearly vibrating, as Adam slid fingers lightly up his stomach under the thin cotton material of his shirt. Oh yeah, so much fun.

His pocket buzzed before it broke out into _(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction_. He groaned, from disappointment instead of from the fun he wanted to be having.

“Adam?” Harry was panting. He hooked an arm around his waist, half sitting up between Adam’s legs. “That’s your mum’s ringtone, isn’t it?”

“Fuck,” he dug his phone out and hit silence. “I can call back.”

“She’ll be worried,” he said. “Or she’ll come over. And I don’t think we’ll be free for awhile.”

“Fuck.” He stared at Harry desperately for a minute. Harry pushed at his chest. “Oh no, no, no, no. You are not going anywhere.” Harry arched an eyebrow, but fell back in bed. Adam hit his speed dial. He fell down over Harry, groaned at the sensation if his dick pressing against Harry’s belly, bracing his weight on one arm beside Harry’s head, other hand clutching his phone to his ear. “Ringing, go to voicemail, go to voicemail.”

Harry started snickering.

“It’s not funny, Harry, oh my god—hi, mom!”

Harry began positively _vibrating_ beneath him from suppressed laughter. Adam bit at his jaw pointedly. He would have his revenge.

“Um, yeah, yeah. Everything was here. It was great, thank-you,” he spoke into the phone. Harry’s arm twined around his back, tugging his shirt up to run fingers along bare skin. “Uh, dinner? What time is it? I don’t know, we—I’m pretty beat. Jet lag, no sleep.”

And oh fuck, “A party? …everyone will be there?” He looked down at Harry, disappointed. “When’s that start? Um. Five?”

‘It’s eleven,’ Harry mouthed. Adam felt relief slide through him.

“Five’s good. Yeah. I’ve got a guest.” He smiled as his mom spoke, “Yeah, Harry. He’s staying at my place. See you at five. … Love you too. Bye.” He tossed his phone on the nightstand. “Oh my god.” He dove in to kiss Harry. “Worst timing ever.”

“It took three minutes,” Harry said.

“Worst timing _ever_ ,” he insisted, biting at Harry’s jaw again. “But I think I remember where we were.”

\----------

Adam lay curled in his side, sliding his fingers through his sleeping partner’s messy hair. He wasn’t sure he’d ever stared at anyone with such contemplation before. Harry was one of those complex types that inspired contemplation, a lot of it, involving puzzles and secrets. He was mess, if Adam was honest with himself, unwilling or unable to talk about something in his past.

Any other guy, Adam knew he would never be attracted to that much complication. He’d been there before, and he didn’t really want to go there again. It just fucking _hurt_ too much. But with Harry… Adam couldn’t explain it even to himself. There was something about Harry that promised it was all worth it.

He sighed softly to himself. Like right now. In this moment of time Adam was just happy. Flat out over-the-moon stupidly happy.

Maybe it was because Harry was everything he liked in a guy, mixed up in all the messiness. Even the crazy Adam had to admit he sort of loved. He had a thing for puzzles, for figuring them out. He had a thing for crazy too, which totally explained both Harry and Brad and pretty much his entire life. He also had a thing for confidence. And sarcasm. And the British. He really had a kink for the British. He’d never been sure if it was the accent or the propensity for sarcasm.

Or maybe it was the way Harry didn’t seem to care at all Adam was getting stopped everyday and asked for his autograph. Or occasionally being chased by overexcited fans. Or that he was fine with Adam being so busy, having so little time to dedicate to dating, because he was pushing so hard to get his album ready for release. Pushing so hard to prove himself in his chosen field.

The sun was only beginning to set, affording him a perfect view of the object of his thoughts. It was September, but still hot enough in LA to make sheets after overrated, especially after sweaty, messy sex, so the sheets were kicked down past their feet. His eyes roamed over the firm, pale skin of Harry’s back and side. He leaned forward just enough to press feather kisses along the sweat-salty skin of his shoulder, fingers tracing lazily down his side.

Harry hummed and stretched slowly. “Wanted something?” His voice was thick with sleepiness.

Adam smiled against the shoulder. “I hate to say it, but we need to get up soon.”

He groaned plaintively.

“Agreed.” Adam bit at the shoulder. “But we promised mom, and if there’s really a party she will kill me for bailing.”

“You should go visit your friends,” Harry agreed, burying his head under a pillow.

He huffed in outrage and tugged it away. “ _We_ should go visit my friends. You do not get to sleep in if I don’t, baby.” He dropped back a little when Harry swatted blindly at him and noticed a dark line of something low on his back. He frowned, he didn’t remember that being there…

Adam slid down the bed and pushed gently at Harry’s hip, trying to get him to turn so his back was lit up by the setting sun. “Baby, roll over.”

He was peering at him over his shoulder. “Adam, what are you…”

Then it connected in his head. “Oh my god! This is your tattoo? Right? Fuck, I forgot. Lemme see it, baby.”

Harry snorted and finally obligingly slid onto his stomach. “It’s not a big deal, is it?”

“Not a big deal? It’s hot.” Adam hovered over his lower back to check it out. It was a bolt of lightning, long and thin, outlined in black with shades of blue and yellow. It started at the center of his lower back and branched over to his side and down the side of one hip. “How the hell did I not see this earlier?”

Harry shook from smothered laughter. He rolled over, still looking sleepy. “It’s fine. It hides from strangers. Gotta be comfortable.”

Adam climbed up the length of Harry’s body. Smiling and hovering, he said, “It _hides_.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“From strangers.” He just wanted to verify his facts.

“Mhm.”

“I’m not a stranger.”

“No.”

Adam grinned like a dope down at him and Harry was grinning back. Harry leaned up the last few inches and kissed him. He pressed him back into the mattress, deepening the kiss, arms braced to either side of Harry’s head.

Then his phone rang.

Harry wiggled, “It’s your mum.”

“Probably.” His voice was muffled as he pressed his face into the pillow next to Harry’s head. “She’s developing horrible timing.”

“We should get ready for your party.”

“I don’t want to,” he whined, half hopeful Harry would bail with him.

“It’s a few hours. You’ll survive.” He wiggled out from under Adam. “Anyway, I don’t want to make a bad impression on all your friends by being the bloke who convinced you to ignore them.”

Adam sat up. “I’d defend your honor.”

He shot him a smile. “Defend my honor by getting your arse out of bed and into the shower.”

Adam stuck his tongue out.

\----------

Harry grasped about blindly at the nightstand for the suddenly noisy, vibrating disturbance, still half asleep and not thinking. All that circled his sleep-saturated brain was that Adam was gone. He knew that because every morning Adam had to get up before him he invariably woke Harry up with drowsy, lazy, brilliant sex, and Harry was still reeling with exhaustion from the bout earlier that morning. So Adam had to still be away for a session or something to do with his album. But if it was Adam calling… He grunted into the pillow he refused to uncurl from, still grasping blindly for the mobile.

The ringtone did not sink in until he finally gave up and sat up fully, sheets pooling around his waist and cold air hitting his bare chest. He shoved his spare glasses on his nose and picked it up, staring blearily and somewhat accusatorily at it. It wasn’t until he read the name that the song finally sank in. ‘Merlin’s Magical House’ played over and over, the ringing never stopping, the mobile never disconnecting or switching over to voicemail.

He was suddenly very awake and mostly clearheaded, the song hitting him like a bucket of ice water. Hermione would never call him unless there was a Dire Emergency, as she had put it. Even her tone conveyed the capitalized nature of the term.

“Hello?” He answered tentatively despite himself, not sure he believed he was talking to one of his best mates after over a year of silence, since the whole Bermuda affair.

“ _Harry, I was starting to worry._ ” Hermione’s brisk, focused voice sounded far away. He supposed it should since she was speaking across the world.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

There was hesitation on the line. “ _We need you to come home, Harry._ ”

Harry’s eyes slid shut and he took a bracing breath. He guessed as much as soon as he’d heard her voice – _every_ time they talked he invariably needed to go somewhere for some magical fiasco – but he didn’t want to believe it. He was just getting comfortable with the place he found himself in. With Adam. “What’s happened?”

Another hesitation, then Hermione cleared her throat and seemed to gather her nerve. “ _Well. Yes, right. You tied up a squib, pinned a note to his chest, and set the aurors on him._ ”

“You’re asking me home for that?” Harry was more confused than anything, though indignation edged its way into his brain. “Bloody hell, if he wants to press charges, he was stalking me, threatening my life and the lives of several muggles. I wasn’t going to let him continue just because he’s a squib, Hermione. That’s about as daft as saying a muggle’s harmless or—”

“ _I know, I know,_ ” Hermione said, breathless. “ _I quite agree with you, if you must know. As you should know actually. I am not sure the American aurors do, but Tonks talked them around when they contacted us initially. You are still quite the international hero—_ ”

“‘Mione,” Harry said, hoping like hell it would get her back to the point. He did not need to hear another story of his everlasting fame and glory. What he wanted, and needed, was a few more hours of sleep and then maybe a walk to the local shops before he made that pasta salad he’d planned. He really wanted to forget Hermione even called and he felt guilty even thinking that.

“ _Steve Bale is an outsider,_ ” Hermione said, as if this explained everything even though he was quite positive it explained nothing at all.

“Ah, okay?”

There was the exasperated sigh, the one telling Harry he was being thick again. “ _The question of course is an outsider of what?_ ”

“…society?” Harry hazarded.

“ _No, Harry,_ ” she said. “ _Have you been in touch with the wizarding sects at all in America? Have you had any news on international events?_ ”

“None,” Harry said. “I haven’t wanted any, ‘Mione. I don’t think our world is my world. I mean, it isn’t for me. Not anymore.”

There was a moment’s silence and then, “ _I’m glad you’ve worked that out, Harry. We’ve known it for years._ ” He could _hear_ the smile in her voice. “ _Ron didn’t like it at first. He insisted you would come back. But Bill and I talked him around eventually. You know how pigheaded he is._ ”

“You knew this entire time. Couldn’t drop me a line about it then?” Harry shook his head.

“ _It seemed something you ought to learn for yourself. You’re the one who picked a seven-year sojourn throughout the world. Left us a mobile to keep in touch._ ”

“Right.” She had a point, Harry couldn’t deny it. He loved his friends, people he considered family, but he just had to get away. The wizarding world was too oppressive. But hell if he’d ever known what he wanted to do with himself. Running had seemed like a great option to start with.

“ _Seven years is a bit long,_ ” Hermione spoke as though she knew what he was thinking. Maybe she did.

“What news am I supposed to have heard that somehow relates to Bale and my returning to England?” It seemed a better topic to focus on.

“ _There have been increasing attacks on villages in the UK directly associated with magic, especially magic-friendly muggle villages and towns with high concentrations of magic-users or squibs. It’s alarmingly reminiscent of… Well, you know. Minster Shacklebolt has been keeping a firm eye on the issue and Tonks has made it top priority for the aurors’ department_.” There was a rustling and Hermione’s voice became faint. _“Ron has papers here, seven muggle-magic villages, three in Britain, two in Scotland, and two in Ireland. Another three strictly muggle towns attacked in Britain. A strictly magical village in Scotland._ ”

“Any cities proper attacked? Or Hogsmeade, Hogwarts?” Harry finally climbed off the bed, rummaging around in the drawer Adam had insisted he take over – originally two drawers and part of the wardrobe, but Harry whittled it down to one drawer despite protests – looking for some clothes to throw on.

“ _No. I suspect that this group finds them too risky. The attackers don’t appear to want to be seen. Not yet. However, there have also been some international incidences that appear to be connected. A wizarding immigration point in Canada, off the east coast. Four events in Russia, one event each in Germany and Spain. If anything has occurred in America, the government is keeping tight-lipped about it, but when they questioned Bale, they recognized him as associated with the attacks and forwarded the information to us as per our countries’ agreements._ ”

Harry hummed agreement. “The few times I’ve had contact with the American side of wizards, I’ve found them very muggle-friendly, sort of mixed in with the rest of society, but really internationally insular. They don’t blend much with other nations, except for tourists, occasionally immigrants, but that’s discouraged.”

“ _Of course. They don’t want bad blood to start there. Well, after the last three major wars occurring in Europe, I can’t say I blame them. During Grindelwald’s rise especially the eastern coast of America had trouble with immigrants and spots of Grindelwald’s followers kept popping up._ ”

Harry ran a hand through his hair roughly, mobile still tucked tightly to one ear. “And Bale’s connected to this new…whatever this is?”

“ _Yes, quite. He would like to join them, he has stated explicitly,_ ” Hermione said.

“But he’s a squib.”

“ _Quite._ ”

“They’d kill him, I gather?”

“ _Not if he brought your head to them,_ ” she said quietly. “ _You’re the mark, Harry. The unachievable goal. It is why Bale focused on you and—_ ”

“And?” Harry didn’t like Hermione’s uncertain tone of voice.

“ _This Adam Lambert bloke?_ ”

Harry froze, a sinking, scared feeling in his gut. Hermione was both asking a question and not. But… “How do you know about Adam?” He felt the insane desire to tack on ‘we’re just friends,’ even though they really weren’t anymore. They were far past that point.

“ _So it’s true._ ” Hermione’s breath exhaled loudly over the mobile’s speaker.

“Hermione, what do you know about Adam? How? Who else knows?” Harry asked urgently. It suddenly hit him square between the eyes that turning in Bale had to have consequences. It was obvious in hindsight that one would be Bale’s confession about stalking Harry and, by proxy, the tour. And Adam. Did the aurors let that out to the media though? Did the American papers know? Did the British papers? A ball of worry tightening in his stomach.

There was surprise in her voice, “ _Not many. We received the information from the American report, and two days ago from Bale himself._ ” She seemed to grasp on to Harry’s worry when she added, “ _Don’t worry, Harry. The media hasn’t cottoned on to it. There’s nothing public. The Americans do not want this international crisis slipping out to the media and Shacklebolt has been careful to protect your privacy from prying eyes._ ”

Harry relaxed. As he released the breath he’d been holding he found his one hand clenching at the edge of the long, low, wooden dresser, cedar biting into his palm hard enough to leave a long deep impression of white skin. “These faceless attackers, would they attack Adam if they knew I was—if we were friends?”

“ _More than likely_ ,” Hermione said. “ _There has been some debate between Ron and Tonks about setting up a watch on Adam, for his protection. However we don’t have authority across the pond._ ”

“It would only draw attention, ‘Mione.” He took a deep breath. “And you need me to come back. I don’t understand why, except to protect those I’m around on the off chance the world finds me. Or do you think Bale revealed my location to this new cult?”

“ _No._ ” He could envision her shaking her head, wild brown hair bouncing along. “ _I don’t think Bale breathed a word. He wanted your fall to be his conquest, no one else’s. It was his ace in the hole._ ”

“Then why do you need me?”

“ _The attacks, Harry. I didn’t mention everything,_ ” Hermione said.

“Okay.” He was tempted to impatiently ask, ‘are you going to?’ He had no doubt his tone said it implicitly.

“ _All of the attacks are more than a little similar to the Death Eater’s favorite methods of ransacking villages._ ” The worry was thick in Hermione’s voice, bordering on fear.

“The Death Eaters are all captured or dead,” Harry said quietly.

“ _Not all of them, Harry._ ” He wondered if Hermione was biting her lip the way she used to when she was particularly vexed and worried about a problem she couldn’t quite solve.

“Most of the ones who slid back into the woodworks held minor positions at best. No genuine rank,” he argued. That old, familiar knot of fear, anger, and determination was settling inside him. Once upon a time he’d felt it every day, after he’d come to the realization it was up to him to hunt Voldemort down and stop the deaths.

“ _Alecto Carrow and Rabastan Lestrange,_ ” Hermione said the names pointedly. “ _Never accounted for. If they…_ ”

He knew what she was thinking. The odds were they were dead. In the final battle more than a few bodies had been damaged beyond recognition. But if they were still out there, they had been in Voldemort’s inner circle. They would know everything about his methods of attack. They would perhaps know enough to do serious damage. “Wouldn’t we have heard something of them by now? In ten years?”

“ _I am not sure that’s a risk we can take,_ ” she said eventually. “ _I am not sure that is a risk_ you _can take, Harry. If this one man could find you, so could others._ ”

He didn’t respond as he sank down onto the corner of the unmade bed. This was so far removed from what he wanted, he didn’t have words for it, he didn’t have _thoughts_ for it, except the repeating mantra of _no no no no no no no._

“ _It won’t be for long_ ,” she finally said quietly. “ _We’re hoping a few months. And…and it’s safer, for Adam Lambert. He doesn’t have anything to do with this mess, Harry. If you stay, he might get involved and—_ ”

“I’d protect him,” he said flatly. He would, he had no doubt in his mind. He would die before letting anything happen to Adam.

“ _Right now odds are you can protect him best by letting him be._ ”

“Disassociating myself, you mean,” he said a little more with a little more venom than he meant. He knew he was being daft. Hermione was right, the best way to protect Adam from some purity uprising was by letting him remain another anonymous muggle not remotely connected to the magical world.

His problem was, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay next to Adam, watch his career blossom and sort out his own life. He wanted to tell him everything about magic and his past. He didn’t want to leave Adam in the dark.

“ _It won’t be forever, Harry,_ ” Hermione said finally. “ _It’s what’s best for now._ ”

“I know.”

\----------

It wasn’t until after dinner – some pasta and zucchini thing Adam was hoping to see again sometime in the near future – that Harry said he had bad news.

‘Bad news’ was never a good thing. Okay, that… Yeah, okay, bad news was never good, for obvious reasons, but Adam found more often than not that it meant ‘we can’t see each other anymore.’ Especially when there was some new, delicious menu item. It was some social ritual: here’s a nice meal, and by the way, I’m dumping you.

And he wasn’t being fair, because ever since Harry took over the kitchen a few weeks ago most meals were incredible and somehow complex. Adam was finding pots and pans and utensils in his kitchen he didn’t even know existed. Some of them he didn’t actually want to know existed. A melon baller made sense, he was a fan of fruit salads, but who in their right mind needed a pasta rake? How often would something like that ever prove useful?

Harry was watching him with a mildly panicked expression. Just possibly because he’d been sitting here in silence for ten minutes contemplating cooking tools.

“Did you hear me?” Harry asked eventually. He slid off the barstool and stacked the dishes setting them in the sink. Adam wondered if he’d start cleaning up the kitchen.

“Bad news,” Adam finally acknowledge. He picked up his beer, tossing the last few mouthfuls back. “Let me guess, this isn’t working out, you’re looking for a place. We can’t see each other anymore—”

“What?” He looked truly startled, causing Adam to pause mid-speech. “No! I mean, that’s not… We won’t see each other for awhile, but, no… Bloody hell.”

Why was Harry always, always confusing? Adam could read him like a book, but when it came to speech somehow they spoke an entirely different language. “God, is that a no, we’re not breaking up, or a yes, we are?” He burst out finally when Harry simply stood there, leaning against the sink, looking like he wanted to hide. But that made no sense. Why should Harry want to hide? He wasn’t the one getting dumped.

“Adam, I have to go home for awhile. To England,” Harry said, catching his gaze and holding it.

“Oh.” The tension gushed out of him just as quickly as it had hit him fifteen minutes ago. He let out a deep sigh, shoulders sinking. “Fuck, Harry, you really suck at giving bad news.”

Harry grimaced.

“No, really. You suck at it. I would avoid trying it in future,” Adam insisted. He reveled in the relief for a minute and a thought occurred to him. “Or you’re really frighteningly good at giving bad news. Because visiting England for awhile is really not bad in light of your not breaking up with me.”

Harry let out a sigh of his own. His fingers were gripping the edge of the counter hard enough Adam thought he had to be getting a cramp by now. “I’m going home to England, Adam.”

Adam nodded, but couldn’t stop from protesting, “It’s not your home anymore.”

He looked startled, “No, it’s not. Not really.”

“Why the sudden decision to go?” He asked. Harry began biting at his lip, a sure sign there was something more to this. He wondered if it had something to do with them, if this was a brush-off of some sort. Maybe Harry was more affected by Adam’s absence, his work on the album, than he thought.

“A friend, Hermione, called,” he let go of the counter to cross his arms, tucking his hands at his sides. “There’s some crisis or another. I don’t know how bad it is.”

He kept meeting Adam’s eyes, not looking away or faltering once, and Adam felt the last of the worry slip away. It definitely wasn’t them. He just knew. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry said.

Adam smiled briefly, “Yeah. I hope everything’s okay..? But vastly better news than I expected.”

His mouth twisted into a frown. “Are you even going to fucking miss me?”

Adam stared in shock, “ _Yeah_ , hello. Just went on about not wanting to break up.” What the hell? Either Harry was overreacting to a trip away or he was missing something. Something huge. And Harry wasn’t the type to overreact about traveling. Hell, the guy travelled alone for what, seven years? “What don’t I know?”

Harry looked briefly confused then taken back. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” he said.

Harry forgot to add that part on. Adam stood and walked around the bar. He leaned against the counter across from Harry. “You don’t know how long? Days? Weeks? Months?”

Harry flinched, “Months, probably. It’s…”

“This really isn’t some fucked up way to break up with me without having the balls to actually do it, is it?” Because, fuck, _months_?

Harry laughed without amusement. “When have I ever refrained from telling you my full and rude opinion or intention?”

Adam smiled. He had a point there. “What sort of crisis is it that will keep you in England for months? I thought it was a family thing.”

“No, it’s political,” he admitted. Adam noticed he was relaxing some, as though now that they were talking he could relax, as though the silence had been weighing on him. “Mostly political. A sort of repeat performance, I guess, of some bollocks that I had a hand in cleaning up years ago. Hermione figures since I have experience in it I should be brought on the team.”

“Why don’t you say no?” He demanded. He wanted to keep Harry here, with him, as selfish as that might be. They were living together, going out on actual dates, having hours-long conversations in the middle of the night. Adam did not want to lose that. “And wait, alright. Math is not my strong suit, but you had to be—”

“Just a kid, fresh out of school,” he agreed. “I can’t say no because Hermione’s not wrong. I could be a help.”

“You’re not obligated to them, Harry,” he said eventually with a little frown. “You don’t owe anyone, and you don’t need to run off to fix others’ problems just because they tell you you’d be helpful.”

“I’m starting to work that one out,” he admitted softly. “Helping, it’s built into me at this point. Merlin, I want to stay here, I do.” He looked at Adam pleadingly.

Adam felt like someone was trying to claw his heart out. He took a shaky breath. “Then stay.”

“I…can’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I want to, but I can’t. It’s… What Hermione is asking me to do is help save… to save lives in the end and I can’t…ignore that.”

“Save lives.” He repeated. A new edge of panic was settling in next to what had to be his breaking heart, because Harry looked so damn lost, and Adam didn’t think he could rescue him from it. “Is this something like being a bodyguard then? Or a policeman? It’s dangerous?” Is there something I can say to convince you to stay?

“Yeah.” Harry bit his lip. “It’s a risk, but I can help others.”

He held out a hand, “C’mere.” Harry took it and slid into his arms. “You’re not obligated.”

“I know.” He pressed his face into Adam’s chest.

Adam rested his chin on top of his head. “We’ll keep in touch, baby. Phone calls, texts, email.”

Harry chuckled, “I still bloody hate computers.”

“You’re missing out on the 21st century,” he teased. “I’ll be here when you get done with whatever. This dangerous political thing.”

He felt Harry tense slightly in his arms. “You don’t… I’ll be gone for months, love. You’ll be in a caught up in your own windstorm. Your music will be a hit, you’ll be traveling all over the country. You don’t’… I won’t ask you to wait.”

Adam could not believe what he was hearing, and he wasn’t having any of it either. He curled his fingers in the messy black hair and tugged back gently until Harry was looking at him. “Honey, shut up.” He dropped a kiss on his forehead before meeting his gaze again. “You have some serious fucking martyr issues.”

“Adam,” he started, eyes serious. “It is dangerous. And I don’t know what will happen—”

“You’ll come back,” he said calmly.

“You don’t know that.”

He leaned in a smidge more, until Harry’s eyes began to blur from the nearness. “You’ll come back, remember?”

Harry let out a slow breath and leaned in, mouth pressing against his own briefly. “ _Coup de foudre._ ”

Adam wracked his brains, “Struck by lightning?”

“Love at first sight.”

Adam laughed, “That _zing_ when you see that person.”

Harry smiled, “Yeah.”

\-----FIN-----

  



End file.
